Salute!
by mumyou nanashi
Summary: “Got the balls to enlist?” Athrun Zala never thought that joining the military would turn out to be THIS impossible. A humorous take on the Le Creuset Team’s military academy days. [nonyaoi, preseed, rated for Yzak's potty mouth]
1. One of Those Days

_**Author's Notes:** It seems that I have lost my angst-y streak…I'm having a hard time writing angst or drama! I'm afraid I've become much too attached to humor… Ah well! I guess it isn't so bad. This fic was originally meant to be a serious one, but I just couldn't resist trying a different approach. Why not meld Angst/Drama and Humor? I've read a couple of fics in that genre and they were terrific. Brilliant, in fact. I just wish this fic would turn out okay…acceptable, even. I wish._

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Gundam SEED…unfortunately._

**-**

**Chapter One – One of Those Days**

-

"Er…Father?"

A grunt.

"I'm, uh, leaving now."

Another grunt.

"Take care of yourself and, um, I'll, ah, see you on graduation day."

Another grunt.

_'This is gonna be one of those days…_' Well, did he actually expect his father to suddenly burst into tears and beg for him not to go? Not even in his wildest dreams did he – oh wait, he -had- dreamt of it, but it was more of a nightmare…so does that count? Well, nevertheless, one would not expect Patrick Zala to fully function as a human being, more or less as a father, nowadays.

Athrun Zala shook his head, grabbed his incredibly huge luggage and proceeded to slam the door as loud as he could, which could be pretty loud, considering that he was a teenager just passing through the rebellious phase.

Athrun threw his bag unceremoniously in the passenger seat and took one last look at the absurdly ostentatious mansion in the background. It was absurdly ostentatious in the sense that only three of them lived in there (not counting the helpers, of course) – Wait. Scratch that. Only two of them lived in there now. Add to the fact that one of them was rarely home, and the other (much younger half) was going away to study for an indefinite period of time. He sighed. It would probably be better if they just sold the house for all it was worth (which was pretty high up on the real estate chart).

He got in the driver's seat of the car, put the key in the ignition, turned it until the car revved to life, he stepped –

Do we really have to state every little thing that he did?

Okay…fast forward.

He pulled out of the driveway and out into the suburbs. According to his calculations – well, the -map-, more precisely, his destination was only a couple of hours away. But something was bothering him. Did he forget anything? He was quite sure he did everything on his 'List of Things To Do Before Going Away'.

As he drove through the streets of December 1, he realized that he felt a little sad. Okay, he felt a hell lot of -sad- but his ego wouldn't allow him to admit it. Just a week ago he was practically prancing carelessly around here, without a care. He -was- prancing around literally…but it was a dare! His bloody classmates put him up to it.

Anyway, that was before…the incident.

It's funny how fate manages to slap you hard in the face with the reality that nothing is permanent. You're laughing and having fun one minute, and then – wham! – you're grieving and crying sorrowfully the next.

That day, he was supposed to have gone home feeling all giddy and lovey-dovey inside, after his would-be date with his fiancée; not going home shocked and near tears. But what was he supposed to do after fate slapped him hard in the face – after swaggering around town looking for a gift to buy Lacus – by showing before his very eyes on a huge monitor Junius Seven's complete obliteration?

Well, normally he would have felt nonchalant about it, would even let himself feel a little sad about it (that's where their food comes from, after all). But well, as fate would have it, his mother who just so happened to visit some colony for a research was in that same colony that blew up before his very eyes. Fate? Destiny? His ass.

For weeks, he shut himself in his room in shock. Blame it on him being a momma's boy, but, well, that was just it. He -was- a momma's boy (not as much as Yzak Jule, though). He and his mother shared a deep bond. The loss of his mother was pretty devastating.

And it did not help that he lost her through unnatural means.

It was the work of the Earth Alliance. They practically admitted it! He just couldn't mope around forever when he knew that his mother's killers were on the loose! No way, Jose! What was he to do? And the idea presented itself one morning when he decided to finally leave his room and get something in his growling stomach.

He and his father never talked about what happened. Denial. Yes, that was a great way to start their lives anew. NOT. His father seemed to be avoiding him as Athrun no longer saw him around the house (and he no longer bothered him to clean his room or wash the car or stop making idiotic mechanical pets…). So it came as no surprise when Athrun went down only to find nothing.

Literally nothing!

Their helpers were gone! Apparently, he had lost track of time and glancing at the calendar on the counter confirmed his suspicions. It was their day off. Oh, was the world coming to an end? How was he supposed to get some food in his stomach? By hunting for wild animals? Will he have to resort to eating his clothes? Will he have to kill his mother's pet birds and fry them on a stick? Would he…

'_Okay, Athrun,'_ he remembered thinking to himself, _'you've been cooped up in your room way too long. This is the Cosmic Era! We don't hunt for animals! We have technology!'_

And his gaze, thankfully, fell on the refrigerator standing oh-so-innocently by the corner. He opened it, only to find a carton of milk. He made a mental note to remind himself that Sunday was also 'grocery day'. Cursing his dumb luck, he took it out and drank it, only to spit it out again!

Boy, you can just imagine how constipated he must have been after drinking milk gone very, very bad.

When he was just about ready to chuck the milk carton in the incinerator for daring to poison him (never mind that it technically wasn't the carton's fault that Athrun was being stupid…), he noticed one thing that he failed to do so when he picked it up.

And no, it wasn't the expiration date.

There on the side of the carton was printed a colorful advertisement from the ZAFT Military to join their ranks. Colorful because it was red (his favorite color) and because it sported taunting messages like, "Are you man enough to join us?" "Got the balls to enlist?" "Be a man and be a soldier!" and the like.

Well, there was the answer that he was looking for.

Join the military.

Oh, joy.

Which brings him to his current situation: where in the blue hell was the ZAFT Military Academy located? He was quite sure that he was in the right place. Well, did you expect him to just drive around aimlessly while we were in the course of a semblance to a flashback? Of course not! He was making his way to his new school and dwellings! That's what you call time management.

What to do, what to do? Well, he could always ask for directions. Then again, that wouldn't be very soldier-like now, would it? He drove around some more, looking every now and then at the map occupying almost three-quarters of his breathing space. He had NO idea the PLANTs were -this- big.

He knew his father was one of those who were responsible for the organization of ZAFT and its academy, but he had never been there. Now, he felt slightly stupid for not even bothering to talk -thoroughly- to his father about enlisting. But do they even talk nowadays? Well, yes if you count Athrun trying to tell his father something and his father answering with meaningless grunts.

He looked around and fought the urge to drive his car straight to something hard.

_'Mother, please give me the strength to go on…'_

And then like the light from the heavens shining down on him, he found it.

Well, more like from the light shining down the great, big sign that said in formal, bold letters (with the little hourglass thingy below it), "ZAFT Military Academy." (But as it was morning and signs don't get lit up 'til nightfall, we'll just ignore that light shining crap and get a move one with our story)

Athrun sighed in relief and sent a quick word of thanks to his mother. He made his way towards the guardhouse.

"Good morning, sir… I was just –"

The guard interrupted him with a bored look. "Seeing as you stopped to chat with me, I can assume that you didn't take the time to read the pamphlet and you're here to ask what the hell you're supposed to do. Park your expensive-looking car there and get your belongings. Move your ass to the administration building to register. Just ask the bastards there what to do." Then mumbling quite coherently and audibly to himself, "God, how many idiots are planning to enlist anyways?"

Athrun wanted to throttle the guy for calling him an idiot but controlled himself. It wouldn't look very good on his records if he was involved in a brawl on his very first day. So he muttered a 'thank you' laced with enough venom to kill the entire Earth Forces.

He did as he was told and as he was making his way to the administration building, he found quite a number of nervous-looking, some sullen-faced, rookies. It seemed very unlikely that they were there because of the very 'inspiring' (note the sarcasm here) advertisement like the one on the milk carton. Athrun realized that they might be here for the same reasons: to avenge Junius Seven. The Bloody Valentine tragedy seemed to have become a rallying point for young Coordinators such as themselves to join the military.

The administration building (according to his map) was just ahead. He willed his knees to support his ridiculously heavy baggage. Why'd he bring so much stuff anyway? He wasn't going to a bloody vacation! He mentally ran through all the things that he bought and he realized with a groan that most of his possessions consisted of screws, scrap metals, chips (computer chips, not chocolate chips or potato chips!), wrenches, screw drivers and other mechanical stuff…or junk.

He really needed to find a new hobby.

He was lumbering clumsily because of the added weight and cursing every inanimate object he brought, when he noticed a green-haired fellow huffing and puffing away dragging a heavier looking bag. Athrun stopped and watched the little guy with mixed pity and amusement. The bag was roughly half the size of the green-haired kid.

Athrun approached Mr. Weight-Lifter and tapped him on the shoulder. "Do you need help carrying that?"

The green-haired kid smiled, or at least tried to. "You have no idea. I've been lugging this from the parking lot!" His gaze fell on Athrun's equally heavy-looking bag. "On the other hand, you seem to need help yourself."

"Touché."

"I'm Nicol Amarfi. Normally, I'd shake your hands but since I'm mauling a ton's worth of my earthly possessions, please excuse me."

Athrun felt his lips curl up in a smile. "That's fine. I'm Athrun Zala. It's nice to meet you." He found Nicol interesting. He seemed…too kind (and girlish) to be a soldier. His last name seemed familiar too… "Wait, are you Representative Amarfi's son?"

Nicol blinked and looked at him with a curious expression on his face. "And you must be Patrick Zala's son!"

Athrun nodded and they continued their trek to the administration building. This time, his pace much slower as he kept shooting worried glances at the boy beside him. _'I knew Coordinators had immense strength, but how can his body hold it? It seems that he'll fall down if you so much as sigh at him.'_

The Academy was coated in sprawling green grass and several trees. There were grounds dedicated solely to whatever particular activity they were to have. There were buildings scattered here and there and it seemed that the Academy reached as far as his eye can see. To say that it was big was like saying that Yzak was a hothead. All in all, Athrun hadn't expected the Academy to look so…pleasant and high-class. It looked more like a preppy school than a military academy.

Finally, after hauling their one-ton bags for at least ten minutes, they finally reached the administration building. Like the rest of the campus, it looked like it belonged to an exclusive (not to mention expensive) academy, not a military one. Well, Athrun had to give the architect (and the administrators) credit for having such good taste.

The lobby was, there was just no other word for it, jam-packed. He hadn't seen so many people in his lifetime! It wasn't any place for a claustrophobic person. Thankfully, he wasn't so he didn't mind them at all. They found an announcement telling them that they were supposed to assemble at the auditorium located at the east wing.

"Great. Just what we needed," Athrun mumbled. "Another 50-mile trek."

"It's not so bad, Athrun," Nicol offered quite cheerfully. "Think of this as training!"

Athrun smiled, but inwardly snorted. _'Great. Just what I need. A friggin' optimist.'_

Contrary to Athrun's exaggeration, the auditorium was only 250 meters away from the lobby. It was, like the lobby, half-full (or half-empty, depending on your perspective) of people. They found some empty seats and they were just about to settle down when someone greeted them.

"Hey, you bastard!"

Did that uncouth statement even count as a greeting? Well, apparently for one Yzak Jule, it did.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Athrun 'I-let-my-daddy-do-the-talking' Zala!" Yzak smirked. Trust Yzak to break the ice. Athrun knew him because they went to the same school and his father and Yzak's mother were allies in the Council. So…did that make Yzak his ally?

"And if it isn't Yzak 'Where's-my-mommy' Jule," Athrun replied politely. "Where's your mom by the way?"

Apparently not.

Yzak scowled at him. "I guess you're expecting my mom to be trailing behind me, huh?"

Athrun smiled sardonically. "Actually, yes."

Yzak shot him a death glare and Athrun returned it equally. But Athrun was a little grateful that Yzak had more tact than to remind him of the reason why they were there in the first place. The reason why Athrun was there… Their glaring match was interrupted by the arrival of Yzak's best bud or in Athrun's terms, Yzak's 'lackey'.

"Hey, Athrun, long time no see," a dry voice belonging to Dearka Elthman greeted him. He smirked at him and then, blinked when he saw Nicol standing beside Athrun, watching the exchange curiously. Dearka jabbed a thumb in Nicol's direction. "Who's the chick?"

"C-Chick?" Nicol echoed, his cheeks turning pink.

"That's a boy, Dearka," Athrun corrected him. Attempting to change the subject for the sake of Nicol's masculinity or male ego, he said the first thing that came to his mind. "I see you're still tailing after Yzak."

"Only to keep him from pounding the living daylights out of you," Dearka returned smoothly. He turned to Nicol and sneered. "Sorry, I thought Athrun was cheating on his fiancée!"

Nicol gave him an uncertain smile.

"Everyone please, settle down!" a booming voice commanded from the stage. Athrun and Nicol proceeded to take their seats. Seeing that there were no more empty seats available other than those beside Athrun's, Yzak cursed, but sat down nonetheless. Dearka followed suit and after a few minutes, the welcoming ceremony began.

And that was how Athrun Zala's first day with the military began…with him making new friends and exchanging insults with his old ones.

-

_**Author's Notes: **So, is it okay? Let me know what you think! For the record, this is a -friendship- fic. There are no particular pairings here but since this is set before the series, there will be hints of Athrun-Lacus. Anyway, seeing as you've read the first chapter already, please review!_


	2. It's All in the Genes

_**Author's Notes: **A BIG THANK YOU to all those who reviewed! Aries Stephastone, Komillia, no name for now, geneticatrophy, Attharun, thousandbirds, and lightyearsaway._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam SEED and other related articles._

-

**Chapter Two – It's All in the Genes**

-

There were very few things that Athrun Zala considered as 'boring'. The first would have to be watching paint dry, followed closely by waiting for his mother to finish her shopping, and listening to old men give out long, speeches full of words, half of which he didn't understand.

Well, you can probably figure out which of these he was experiencing right now. Come on, guys! Do the deduction thingy. There weren't any wet paint signs in the auditorium, and his mother is permanently, er, -deceased- to do some shopping. Okay, okay. It didn't take a genius for someone to figure out that the reason behind that glazed, spaced-out look on Athrun's eyes was because of the old man up stage getting them -fired up- for military life.

Talk about ironic.

None of them felt exceptionally 'fired up' at the moment. Almost all of the rookies had the same look on Athrun's eyes. The exceptions (among the people that mattered) were Nicol, Yzak and Dearka. Nicol, probably because he was too polite and actually sympathized with the old pile of wrinkles… After all, most people after going to his recital commented on their good sleep rather than his good piano-playing skills. On the other hand, Dearka and Yzak were too rude and didn't really care (they were there to kick some Natural ass!... and maybe save some Coordinators on the way) so they ignored the man anyway.

Well, how -did- Yzak and Dearka manage to drown out the droning sound anyway? By doing what they did best.

Sneer. Aim. Throw. Duck.

"What the hell was that?"

Snicker. Snicker. Snicker. Snort.

Aim. Throw. Duck.

"Ow! The hell?"

Snicker. Snort. Sneer. Smirk.

Aim. Throw. Duck.

"We're under attack…!"

Yzak and Dearka, being the little juveniles that they were, apparently 'drowned out' the old coot's opening speech by throwing every little thing that they could get their hands into to unsuspecting, spaced-out, 'brain-on-vacation-be-back-in-an-hour' individuals. The last of these individuals, who thought they were under attack, turned his head to Yzak and Dearka's direction so fast he cricked his neck.

"Hey, you morons," he hissed. "If you're bored, don't take it out on me!"

Yzak sneered at him. "You're in the line of fire, buddy, if you get what I mean."

"No, I don't 'get what you mean'," the boy said through gritted teeth.

Dearka smirked. "Oh, I'm sure you do." He shot the boy a nasty grin and mocked in a high-pitched, girlish voice, "'We're under attack!'"

It was hard to tell in the dim light, but Yzak and Dearka could safely assume that the other boy was turning red. The boy shot them a very evil glare and after that, resumed 'listening' to the speech. Seeing that the boy chose to ignore the two juvenile delinquents, boredom once again cast its lot amongst our heroes (?).

_'Aw, crap! And I was expecting a fight!' _Athrun whined inwardly. '_There goes the only available distraction in the whole bloody auditorium!_' His eyes once more took on the glazed, spaced-out look that he especially reserved for long and winding speeches.

-

"Talk about some useless shit!" Dearka exclaimed as soon as they left the auditorium and memories of fat, old men boring them to death. "I felt like I aged a couple of years!"

Yzak rolled his eyes. He was about to open his mouth to give his friend a witty (or sarcastic, whatever his mood dictated) remark when someone oh-so-very roughly and intentionally bumped into him. He snarled and grabbed the guy by the collar. "Who do you think are you bumping into, huh?"

The red-headed guy was about as tall as Yzak and thus, was able to glare levelly at him. Yzak's eyes narrowed as he recognized him. It was the 'We-are-under-attack!' boy. "Well, who -exactly- am I bumping into anyway?" the red-head snapped.

"Listen here, punk. Remember this face very well. If you had even the slightest idea on who you bumped into, you would have run straight to your mother," Yzak hissed threateningly.

Around them, more rookies were piling out of the auditorium and into the lobby. Strangely enough, no one took notice of the three boys practically starting a riot…or perhaps they were choosing not to. Judging by the death glares that were coming from the silver-haired kid and the red-head, they wouldn't want to be caught in the crossfire.

"That piece of advice must be from experience coming from you, Yzak," an unwelcome voice stated. "You do it very often."

Yzak's head whipped up and he snarled at the approaching figure of Athrun Zala. Dearka sighed exasperatedly and muttered, "Great. There goes getting back my youth."

"No one asked for your fucking opinion, Zala," Yzak said through gritted teeth.

Athrun sighed. "It wasn't an opinion, Yzak. It was a fact." He looked kindly at the boy as if to say, 'Don't worry. His bark is worse that his bite.' Then he turned his attention back to Yzak and gave him a leveling stare.

Once again, Athrun and Yzak found themselves in a glaring match from hell while Dearka and Nicol, now with an added audience, found themselves watching the heated (not to mention, idiotic and time-wasting) exchange between the two rivals. By now, the halls were empty save for the five of them.

Dearka smirked. "Are you two just gonna stare or what? We're going to miss tomorrow's breakfast at this rate!" What he really meant: _Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight…_ Now don't get him wrong, Yzak was his best friend, but he simply couldn't let this opportunity pass him by.

Nicol shot Dearka a wary look. "Please don't encourage them, Mr. Elthman. We've only been here for a couple of hours."

Yzak had completely released the boy from his grasp and the boy was now standing approximately a foot from Nicol. He was watching Athrun and Yzak kill each other with their respective death glares. He was slightly puzzled. He thought that he was the one that was fighting with the silver-haired kid! "Erm, did I miss something?"

Dearka snorted. "Just stay in the sidelines. This is gonna get interesting." He turned to the other two. Athrun and Yzak were still glaring at each other. _'Or not.'_ Honestly, when will these two start entertaining him? "While I'm young and able to stop you two from deliberately killing each other, if you don't mind."

After a few seconds, Athrun let out a sigh. "I don't really want to fight you, Yzak," he said tiredly. He straightened up, closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. "I did not join the military to baby sit the two of you," Athrun muttered.

Surprisingly, Yzak straightened out as well and regarded Athrun with an unreadable expression on his face. He mumbled something that only he and Athrun could hear and after that stomped away into the lobby. Athrun stared disbelievingly after him.

Dearka had no other choice but to follow after his friend. He turned to the boy and smirked at him. "Consider yourself lucky." After that, he waved nonchalantly at Athrun and Nicol and silently went after his silver-haired friend.

Athrun turned his attention to the boy and gave him an uncertain smile. "I'm sorry for butting into your fight."

The red-head boy blinked and then after a while, he snorted. "Just because you're the sons of some of the members of the Supreme Council doesn't mean that you can pick on whoever you want to."

"I knew that was coming," Athrun mumbled, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "Look," he said in a clear voice, "in behalf of those two, I apologize. We do not make it a habit of using our parents' positions as a means to bully other people." He stuck out his hand to initiate a handshake. "Athrun Zala."

The boy stared at Athrun's outstretched hand and after a few minutes slapped it in a high-five-ish sort of way. "Rusty Mackenzie."

While Athrun was pondering whether that was his real name or a nickname (it seemed pretty appropriate, considering the boy's hair color), beside him, Nicol smiled at Rusty and introduced himself in his soft voice. "Nicol Amarfi."

After all the initial hostilities were over and done with, the three of them lugged their respective luggage and made their way towards the crowded lobby. Athrun saw several information kiosks that he failed to notice earlier. He was sure that the speaker mentioned something about them but he couldn't exactly remember what it was.

Seeing Athrun's curious stares at the machines, Nicol, the only one who bothered to listen to the speaker, informed him. "We'll enter our identification numbers on them and then they'll tell us which platoon we'll belong to, as well as assign as to our residential quarters."

"Oh! I thought they were ATM's or something," Rusty revealed sheepishly.

"NOOOOOOOOO (_gasp_) OOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooo!"

Their heads whipped up to the direction of the blood-curdling scream. Athrun could feel a chill run down his spine at the inhumanly sound. All was silent and like a scene from a movie, the crowd parted to reveal a silver-haired boy kicking the crap out of a poor, defenseless info kiosk.

It was Yzak.

'_Why am I not surprised?' _Athrun sighed exasperatedly and smacked his palm on his forehead. _'What the hell's the matter with him? We've only been here for a couple of hours!_'

Rusty whistled in awe. "Your friend really, really needs to attend anger management." He shot the info kiosk a pitying look. "Poor thing."

"He's not my friend," Athrun muttered warily.

"Sure he's not," Rusty answered dismissively. He could see Yzak continue to kick the inanimate object while Dearka looked on in detached amusement. "Oi, you better stop him before more innocent bystanders are involved."

Nicol, whom Athrun was just beginning to regard as a friend, agreed with Rusty. "I think he's right, Athrun."

'_Friends indeed,' _Athrun thought sarcastically as he glared at the two of them. He squared his shoulders and prepared to walk away when Yzak screamed yet again.

"YOU!" the silver-haired Coordinator seethed.

Resigning himself to his fate, Athrun turned around and nodded politely at Yzak. "Yes."

"YOU DID THIS!"

Athrun rolled his eyes. "-I- did this? You're more jaded than I thought you were. -You- did this."

Yzak stomped in front of him and he could see Dearka follow in glee. The former's face was twisted in anger. But no matter how angry Yzak became, his hair stayed unnaturally straight. Athrun inwardly snorted at the thought. Yzak would make a very good shampoo model.

"WE'RE IN THE SAME TEAM!" Yzak grabbed his collar and shook him very roughly.

Athrun was about to swat Yzak arms away from him when his words sank in. He stared in disbelief. They wouldn't dare put him on the same team with Yzak! He was here to serve his homeland, not to fight with a fellow Coordinator. "You're kidding?"

Yzak gave him a look of incredulity. "Hell no! Who could possibly make a joke out of this?"

Rusty snickered. "I can."

"Shut up!"

At his old school, it was a perfectly normal scenario, minus the presence of Nicol and Rusty. Yzak never missed a chance to exchanged insults with him and only once did they actually fight each other, physically. Their previous schoolmates were used to seeing provocative 'fights' like this. But Yzak, Dearka and Athrun forgot that no longer were they in their old school. They were in the military, with new people around them, where such conduct would be considered brash and crude. The other rookies in the lobby began to whisper amongst themselves.

"They think they own the place."

"Probably joined the military to attract the girls."

"Quick! Get a teacher!"

Athrun pushed Yzak's hands away and straightened out. It appeared that they shared Rusty's sentiments about them being arrogant brats. He joined the military not to make a fool of himself but to defend their homeland, so that the Bloody Valentine Tragedy will not happen again. He picked up his bag when one comment made him pause.

"You'd think they'd at least show some solemnity, especially after Junius Seven…"

He was sure the others heard it, too, judging by the looks on their faces. The annoying smirk was wiped out of Dearka's face. Yzak had visibly calmed down and was looking at Athrun (miracles of miracles!) apologetically? Pitifully? Embarrassedly?

Nicol's cheeks were tainted crimson and he was muttering apologies under his breath. Rusty, on the other hand, seemed to be ignoring the comments and was only standing there with an unreadable look on his face.

Athrun could feel anger rushing through his veins. He picked up his bag, adjusted the strap on his shoulder and brushed past Yzak to check an available info kiosk. The best way to deal with situations such as these was to ignore it ever happened.

Yzak glared at the crowd and they immediately went back to minding their own businesses. He and Dearka picked up their own luggage and went outside. Nicol and Rusty were left behind. Rusty just shrugged and followed Athrun.

-

There were a total of ten residence halls to accommodate all two thousand enlistees. The faculty (as well as the superior officers) lived in a more lavish setting in the form of a mini-subdivision on the east. The residence halls housed two hundred soldiers each divided equally into five's in its 40 rooms. Thankfully, the room appeared to be spacious and looked quite comfortable enough. The problem was not the room itself but those who will be residing in it.

It was that day that Athrun Zala concluded that fate must really hate him. He, along with Nicol Amarfi, Dearka Elthman, Rusty Mackenzie and (oh, joy) Yzak Jule were assigned to the same platoon, the same squad, the same residence hall and (OH JOY!) the same dorm room. Athrun, being a very private person, was not very keen with the idea of sharing the same room with four other guys. But he could live with it for seven months. Endurance was one of a soldier's best qualities. What he couldn't live with was sharing a room with someone who would possibly cheerfully murder him in his sleep (i.e. Yzak).

But well, as his friggin' dumb luck would have it, he and Yzak Jule were to spend exactly seven months in 'close quarters'. It was no wonder Yzak acted that way. The silver-haired Coordinator made no secret of how much he loathed Athrun. And Athrun wasted no time in showing the whole world the feeling was exactly mutual.

If not for his naturally calm demeanor, he would have kicked the info kiosks in frustration as well. (As for Yzak, Athrun could assume that the former kicked it in the hopes that it will mess up the system and assign either of them to another group. Athrun, being well-versed in the mechanical world, knew that it was futile, and not to mention stupid, however.)

Nicol and Rusty were still chatting animatedly when they reached their room (Well, more likely, Rusty was chattering a mile a minute while Nicol was listening politely). Yzak and Dearka were already in their room and after a smirk from Dearka and a death glare from Yzak, Athrun went to the farthest bed and proceeded to unpack.

For the second time that day, Athrun wondered what it was that he saw in mechanical tinkering. Out of all the hobbies available to mankind, why oh why could he not have chosen something productive like maybe painting, playing an instrument or even singing? Almost all the stuff that he bought consisted of materials of his latest Haro (Highly Annoying RObots), this time an orange-colored one.

On the other side of the room, Rusty paused at the sight of the orange-colored ball. His eyes went wide as realization sank in. "Is that… what I think it is?"

Yzak snorted, breaking his unusual, self-imposed silence. "It depends on what you think it is."

Rusty glared at him but otherwise, chose to ignore the snide remark. "That's a replica of Lacus Clyne's Haro!"

"Oh, are you a fan of Miss Clyne?" Nicol asked amicably.

Rusty blushed and grinned sheepishly. "Well, you could say that…"

Dearka, being Dearka, let out a huge guffaw. "What a sissy!" Beside him, Yzak appeared to share the same sentiments, judging from the snickers coming from his direction. "Athrun, it seems like your new-found friend is a fan of -Lacus Clyne-!" Dearka blurted out between fits of laughter with emphasis on the last two words.

Rusty seemed to notice it and immediately narrowed his eyes. "Did I miss something again? What's Athrun got to do with Miss Clyne?"

"Everything, you dork!" Dearka answered.

"Where have you been all these years?" Yzak sneered. He put on a mock surprised face. "Don't tell me you don't read all those gossip, teeny-bopper magazines?"

Athrun had a feeling that he would soon be dragged into the conversation and thus, made a show of being terribly busy with his unpacking. Nicol was watching the scene with nothing but polite interest. But then again, he -always- watched everything with polite interest so it was hard to tell.

Yzak and Dearka were having the time of their lives at the expense of the oblivious but seething Rusty. "I suppose you do, then?" the red-head retorted snappishly.

"You ass! For all the knowing comments you made earlier, you don't know exactly who Athrun Zala is, do you?" Yzak asked nastily.

Rusty riveted his attention to Athrun as if to say, '_I thought you said they're not usually like this!_' Athrun pretended to not have noticed him but he could tell that the blue-haired Coordinator was blushing. His back was turned but Rusty could see that his ears were red. _'Blushing?_' he thought incredulously. _'Okay, what in the blue hell is going on here?'_ He went back to glaring at Yzak and said quite stiffly, "Enlighten me."

"Oh, I'll be glad to," Yzak answered, his voice dripping poisonous honey. He stood up straight and gave Rusty a mock salute. "Athrun Zala, son of Senator Patrick Zala, and - " he snickered "Lacus Clyne's fiancé!"

Rusty's jaw dropped. "He is?"

"Haven't you heard of their engagement?" Nicol asked, a hint of sympathy in his voice.

Rusty gave a weak smile. "Not really… I was busy with…" Images of Junius Seven being disintegrated to nothing flashed in his mind's eye, "stuff." After that he went back to unpacking.

"Oh, don't tell me you're sulking?" Dearka commented after laughing his lungs out. "Athrun's just lucky to have had the genes that matched Lacus Clyne's. Plus, their fathers are such good friends. Don't sweat on it, Red. It's just the genes."

Athrun rolled his eyes at that. He heard that 'it's just the genes' comment a lot.

Rusty snorted, but didn't look up. "I wasn't sulking. I just think that Miss Clyne is really nice."

This time, it was Yzak who rolled his eyes. "Not to mention taken," he muttered.

"Who knows? Maybe Athrun will get killed and Lacus will be a widow long before their wedding day," Dearka joked. "Then, we'll have your genes tested and maybe it'll even match Lacus'. After that, you'll woo her and poof! Before you know it, you're together. But first, Athrun will have to die."

"Thank you for your confidence in me," Athrun commented dryly.

"No problem, man."

"For the record," Rusty began quite calmly. "I DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON LACUS CLYNE!" and this was punctuated by a carefully aimed water bottle on Dearka's face.

"Ow! What'd you do that for!" Dearka asked angrily, throwing the water bottle back.

"You should thank whatever gods you believe in that it was empty!" Rusty shot back. He gave Athrun an apologetic smile. "Really, Athrun, I don't have any desires to wrench Lacus away from you. I was just surprised that she was engaged! My girlfriend was a huge fan of hers and, well, you can say she got me 'hooked', as unmanly as it sounds."

Athrun shook his head. "It's okay. I get a lot of that."

After that, all of them went back to unpacking and the room was silent.

Something struck Athrun in what Rusty said but he couldn't quite place it. He mentally ran through their conversation again and realized with a start what it was that he found odd.

_"My girlfriend was a huge fan of hers…"_

_'-Was-, huh?_' Athrun clenched his fists in anger. Damn the Earth Alliance. He kept on forgetting that he was not the only victim of the Bloody Valentine tragedy.

And it seemed like he was not the only one who noticed Rusty's choice of words. Yzak and Dearka didn't bring up the topic again and appeared busy with their own unpacking.

-

_**Author's Notes:** You might have noticed that Yzak is out of character here. Let him live a little. He's 15 for god's sake. But don't worry, he'll shape up to the cold, aloof Yzak that we all know and love. As for Rusty, the only image of him that I managed to scour was from episode 15 of GSD! That IS him, right? In Athrun's profile that Meyrin was looking at? Since he died in episode 1 of GS, I decided to flesh him out a little. But if any of you know his personality, etcetera, etcetera, please inform me. Thank you._

_Please review!_


	3. NOT the Reveille!

_**This chapter is dedicated to a wonderful friend, Lia, who gave me back my confidence by saying that this chapter was great.**_

_**- **_

_**Author's Notes: **Another BIG **THANK YOU** to those who reviewed: **Attharun**, **lightyearsaway** and **Warp Ligia Obscura**. Well, this chapter has more humor now. I got my mojo back!… I think…_

_Sorry for all the curse words, I try to keep it at a minimum, but… we all know how colorful Yzak's language is. I hope I'm not offending anyone._

_**Disclaimer: **Must I keep repeating this? I don't own Gundam SEED. Happy?_

-

**Chapter Three – NOT the Reveille!**

**-**

They woke up the next morning to the sound of reveille.

"Fucking shit!"

"…Breakfast already?"

"We're under attack!"

"…"

"Good morning, everyone!"

Yzak, Dearka, Rusty and Athrun (yes, even him) glared at Nicol. The kid was too perky in the morning for their tastes. Nicol cleared his throat uneasily. "Er… who's up for some breakfast?"

He was met with different answers. Athrun grunted and then proceeded to cover his head with his blanket. Rusty, who was sitting up, stared blankly at him. Dearka blinked lazily and then stumbled out of his bed. Yzak, however, bolted upright and reached for something under his bed.

Nicol, already up and awake, was currently making his bed. "Well, the orientation yesterday told us that we should be assembled in the field at 0700 hours…and that's two hours away."

"You mean it's only five o'clock in the morning? I normally get up at eleven!" Rusty complained.

"You're in the military now, dork, not on vacation," Yzak grumbled. He was standing up now and a towel was slung over his shoulder. He was holding a little (PINK!) basket on one hand and his clothes on the other.

Rusty suddenly felt like his bladder was about to burst open. "Argh! I need to use the bathroom!" He brushed past Yzak and ran towards the bathroom at the other side of the room. Yzak, eyes growing wide at the realization that Rusty had just 'stolen' his bathroom time, went after Rusty…and got a face-full of door.

"Bastard!" he screamed as he pounded and kicked the poor door. "Open the goddamn door this instant!"

Dearka groaned and climbed back into his bed. He wasn't exactly a morning person. Nicol just settled on arranging the things that he will need for the day, humming slightly to himself. Athrun sat up, brushed his eyes and yawned.

After a few minutes of hellish pounding, the door flew open and out stepped an exasperated Rusty. "You're such an asshole. I needed to relieve myself."

Yzak snarled at him. "Do that again and I swear you won't live through graduation day."

"Ooh… I'm so scared I think I need to piss again!" Rusty mocked.

"Why you…"

"Be thankful I even bothered to come out!"

As they continued their bickering, Athrun grabbed the opportunity (along with his toiletries and clothes) and hastily went inside the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Yzak stared dumbfounded at the once-again closed door. Beside him, Rusty snickered. "He'd make a fine spy, don't you think? Sneak."

"AAAAAAAATHRUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!"

-

Approximately 500 meters from the residence hall, a blond head shot up from under the covers. Blood-shot amber eyes blinked and his vocal chords emitted a low groan. "First the reveille and now this. Can't a man get a decent sleep around here!"

Miguel Ayman threw his alarm clock on the wall and heard it smash into itsy-bitsy pieces. He buried his head on his pillows but he could still hear the inhuman scream coming from the direction of the residence halls. _'I thought it was my alarm clock…'_

Another year, another bunch of idiots to look after. He briefly wondered whether his commanding officer assigned him here as punishment. He wasn't that bad of a subordinate now, was he? In his mind's eye, he could see a sneering masked man.

The scream was still on full blast. He had to give the, er, screamer, credit. Did he have strong lungs or what?

Yes. This -was- punishment.

"Argh! I'm already bloody awake!"

-

Yzak was still shooting daggers at him but he ignored it. Athrun was far too used to it to care. The mess hall was filled with bleary-eyed rookies, all of whom seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. But along with those half-awake were also those who were staring at them.

Males weren't really nosy by nature, but for some reason, he was getting a lot of stares than was usual. It would've been fine but stares with a murderous intent were not really his thing. Chills were running down his spine and he was quite sure that it wasn't just because of Yzak's daily dose of death glares.

And why did these males made it a point to shoot icy death glares at him? Apparently, (and honest to Lacus, he -did not- notice them) females were among the enlistees. Put Athrun Zala in a room with girls and what do you get? -These-.

"Is that Athrun Zala?"

"Yes, yes, that's him!"

"He's so dreamy!"

And it did not help that he was also with four other equally eligible guys.

"And that's Yzak Jule!"

"Ooh! Ooh! That's Dearka Elthman… so cute!"

"Nicol Amarfi! God!"

"Who's the red-head?"

"I don't know. Probably a nobody."

Make that -three-.

Athrun could practically see the vein throbbing in Rusty's temple. "Great. Just great. I'm reduced to 'nobody' status." He rolled his eyes. "I knew eating breakfast with you guys was a bad idea."

"Ditto here," Yzak muttered inaudibly.

Surprisingly, Dearka took no notice of the girls practically swooning at his feet. His head was buried in an empty cereal bowl and he was snoring lightly. He really wasn't a morning person. Any normal day and he would have hit on those girls immediately.

"Quit glaring at me, Yzak," Athrun muttered without looking up from his PDA. He was reading the daily newspaper through it. Things were getting worse and the war was escalating. _'Of course it's escalating! The damn Earth Alliance blasted one of the PLANTs to kingdom come!'_

"Now why would I do that?" Yzak asked sarcastically through gritted teeth. "I was first to use the bathroom and you cut in!"

"I didn't 'cut in'. The bathroom was empty. I needed to take a bath. Logic states that what I did was rational."

"Don't talk shit with me! The next time you do that, I'm gonna kick a hole in the friggin' door!"

"Sure thing, Yzak. Just be sure that your mom's gonna pay the repairman's bills."

"What's my mom got to do with this?"

"Well, she was the one who spawned a demon-child like you, wasn't she?"

"Zala, you take that back!"

"How, pray tell?"

Rusty rolled his eyes as the two buttheads exchanged insults back and forth. Athrun wasn't even making an effort of stopping it. _'And I always thought he was the intelligent and rational one.'_ Tired of listening to the rapidly deteriorating conversation (Yzak had stooped to name-calling, _"Chicken wuss!"_), Rusty slammed his hand on top of the wooden table. "Oh, cut it out, you two! You can't even fight properly! All talk and no action! Geez, no wonder Elthman's been reduced to a walking zombie!"

"You tell 'em, Red," Dearka muttered sleepily, his face still buried in the empty cereal bowl.

"My name's -Rusty-, you asshole."

"On the contrary, I think we're lucky that words are the only things that they have exchanged and not punches," Nicol put in helpfully. He had been watching the whole scene with interest. It was his first time hearing fights like that, being an only child and his parents being as soft-spoken as he was.

Yzak was about to open his mouth when his cell phone rang. He took it out and snarled into the mouthpiece, "What!" And then his face paled. He immediately got up and exited the mess hall without a look (or death glare) back.

"What was that all about?" Rusty asked to no one in particular. Their 'bonding time' (read: fights) always seemed to always end that way: with Yzak running off somewhere and leaving them in anagrams.

"Probably his mother," Athrun mumbled.

"Oh, how nice. Yzak's really close to his mom, huh?" Nicol asked, attempting to make polite conversation.

Dearka, who finally pried his face of the bowl, snorted. "That's the understatement of the century."

"Huh?"

"Yzak's a momma's boy. Everyone knows that."

"Oh."

Silence.

And then Athrun, Dearka, and Rusty snickered. Dearka and Rusty soon erupted into hearty laughter. Nicol's mouth twitched, but he only allowed himself a tiny smile (even though he was dying to laugh out loud). He had to keep up his image of being the 'gentle one' after all.

After a few minutes, Yzak came back with (surprise, surprise) a scowl on his face. He sat down unceremoniously and slammed his fist on the table. "Alright, you shit-heads, who the hell told my mother about yesterday?"

"Probably one of the hundreds who witnessed your outburst, jackass," Rusty deduced sardonically. He smiled sweetly at Yzak. "Why? Mommy got mad at you? Too bad Zakie-boy, I guess that means no cookies for dinner."

Yzak turned red. "Shut up."

Sensing another fight about to start, Nicol the peacemaker grabbed his own PDA and tapped on it. "It says here we're going to meet our squad leader later on. They say that they usually become the team's senior pilot and assistant commander. I hope he's nice."

"Why wouldn't he be nice?" Rusty muttered sulkily. "You're the sons of VIPs. He's gonna suck up big time."

Oh, how very wrong they were.

-

"DELTA-ONE, FORM!"

"What the hell's he talking about?"

"He means us, dumbass."

The five of them immediately lined up in front of the one who screeched their squad name, a tall, blond young man, whose posture could make even the most seasoned soldiers gasp in horror. Athrun rolled his eyes at their squad name. _'Delta-One, how original.'_ He stood up as straight as he could.

"Alright, I'll cut the military bullshit," the blond man said in a volume meant for only them to hear, which was pretty much useless since the other squads were a good 500 meters away. "Introduce yourselves." He regarded them with bloodshot amber eyes.

The five of them exchanged puzzled looks. The man clearly looked hung over. When none of them made a move to comply, the blond man shot them a withered gaze. "Are you stiff or what? Come on! Drop the soldier act, no one's looking!" When he was still met with blank gazes, he sighed. "I'll do it first okay? Sheesh. My name is Miguel Ayman and you can call me Miguel."

"Er… aren't we supposed to call you 'sir'?"

"Only when other superior officers are looking."

"But… won't that be discourteous and informal?"

Miguel rolled his eyes. "That's the whole point. Calling each other by their first names or nicknames promotes camaraderie; it boosts team morale!"

Yzak snorted. "Or maybe, you're just so hung over, you forgot how this is supposed to be done."

Miguel stared at Yzak and Yzak stared back. Neither seemed willing to back down. A tense silence followed; all of them were waiting for their officer's reaction. They were just beginning to think that maybe Yzak was gonna get it when Miguel laughed.

"Now that's what I'm talking about! I told you, you don't have to be so formal around me and stuff." He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. "Actually, I know all of you. You're pretty popular among the instructors." He glanced at Rusty. "Except Red over there."

Rusty rolled his eyes and huffed indignantly. "Why does everyone insist on calling me that? My name's Rusty! Rusty Mackenzie. R-U-S-T-Y!"

Miguel waved a hand nonchalantly. "Rusty, Red. Same difference." He turned to the other four. He looked at each and every one of them. Then, he sneered at Yzak. "Well, let's start with loudmouth here, shall we?"

Yzak snarled at that comment. "Who're you calling a loudmouth?" he hissed.

"You, of course." He smirked. Then, his face turned serious. "And let me just say that I don't care from which gene pool you originated from. We're all Coordinators here. I'll insult each and every one of you regardless of who your parents are. I'd be no different from those damn Naturals if I start discriminating now."

Then, that smug grin was back again.

"So, I already introduced myself. Rusty's finished. Who's next?" He gave them all an expectant look. There was some feet-shuffling and throat-clearing, but no one seemed willing to do the first move. Miguel sighed in frustration. "Oh for the love of – Don't tell me you're a bunch of cowards! All you have to do is step forward; say your name and then I insult you. How hard could that be?"

Athrun decided to step forward. "I'm Athrun Zala, sir."

"You gotta work on that 'sir' thing," Miguel commented in an exasperated voice.

Athrun nodded. "I will, sir."

Miguel rolled his eyes. "Next!"

"Yzak Jule," Yzak said in a low voice.

"And you, are you mocking me? I thought we already established that you're a loudmouth?"

Yzak shot him one of his patented death glares. But he didn't say anything; maybe the blond prick would realize that he wasn't always that loud. He stepped back and gave Nicol a look that clearly said, '_Hurry up and introduce yourself before I lose my temper_.'

Nicol, as always, first smiled politely. "I'm Nicol Amarfi."

Miguel eyed him skeptically, focusing his attention on Nicol's chest. "Er… you're male, right?"

Nicol's eye twitched. Maybe it was just their imagination, but the whole team swore they saw it twitch. "Yes."

"Fair enough. Next!"

"Dearka Elthman. Chick magnet," the tan Coordinator introduced smugly. Well, if he was going to do that whole 'My-name-is' routine, he might as well get creative with it!

Miguel smirked. "Ah, a boy after my own heart. Finally! I have a companion during happy hour! I'll show you all the hot spots that I frequent!"

Athrun watched his squad leader closely. Miguel Ayman was an interesting character. He wasn't anything Athrun had imagined for a leader. He wasn't strict and he didn't care much for formalities. He was quite unpredictable: one minute he's spouting nonsense, the next he's being serious. He seemed like one who valued friendship above everything. But he also seemed to have a knack for not following rules… like the rest of his teammates. His approach might be different and unconventional, but all in all, Athrun thought he would make a great leader.

"Stick with me Nicol, and you -will- get laid!"

"Er… I don't think I'm ready for that."

"Of course you are! You too, Red!"

"I'm not interested!"

"Oh, you will be. Trust me, you -will- be!"

Or not.

-

Athrun learned later on that they would be meeting with Miguel every morning for the morning drills and exercises. Then after that, they have the normal classes in the typical classroom setting. Their weapons, combat skills and mobile suits training would be held in the afternoon. Miguel also explained that normally, the whole training lasted for about two years, but since they were in a war (and because Coordinators were quick learners), the whole program was shortened to just seven months. Things were not looking up (in the war) and ZAFT needed all the soldiers that they can get.

After their somewhat boring first class in Military Strategy, they were really looking forward to their 'hands-on' and 'practical' lessons in the afternoon. But unlike their mellow instructors during the day, those from their afternoon classes seemed downright scary.

"Not like that, you moron! Like this!"

"What were you expecting, a resort with a spa!"

"Go ahead! Run back to your mommy, you wuss!"

"Would you look at that? The little girl's about to cry!"

"Ooh… so are you gonna tell your daddy, huh? Well, go ahead; I ain't afraid of your daddy!"

They had never before suffered that much verbal abuse in their lifetime. And that was only one instructor, their weapons-handling instructor. By the end of the day, they all agreed that among the other three, he was easily the nicest and most lovable.

Dinner was a silent and uneventful affair. They were all too tired and drained to fight (not to mention humiliated). Upon reaching their dormitory, they all simultaneously crashed into their beds and called it a truce for the meantime.

Why fight when you can sleep? Anyway, there was still tomorrow.

-

The next morning, they were once again roused from their peaceful slumbers by the reveille. Athrun groaned and buried his head further in his pillows to block out the annoying sound. He concluded that if ever he met the one who invented the damn tune in hell someday, he would torture him slowly to death (how ironic).

And for the first time since they've had the misfortune of crossing each other's paths, all five of them shared the same sentiments.

-

_**Author's Notes:** You know what's funny? I actually wake up to the sound of reveille every morning. My alarm clock carries the tune and despite how annoying I find it to be, it's very effective in waking me up. 'Reveille' is the standard military wake-up call. Please be noted that my knowledge of military organization is limited. I'm actually basing this on the articles that I've read in Encarta and my Citizen Army Training when I was in high school (which still isn't enough considering I rarely attended CAT sessions every Saturday)._

_Please review and let me know what you think! You can tell me what you liked/hated about the chapter or the story. Remember that writing is a two-way process!_

_So, give me a piece of your mind and hit the "Go" button down there!_


	4. Athrun and Yzak Sitting in a Tree

_Special thanks to** LIA**, my beta reader!_

_-_

_**Author's Notes: **THANK YOU to my reviewers: **Komillia, mutsu, Warp Ligia Obscura, sugarbox, GodNo127, plushoo, lightyearsaway, White Shadow, Attharun, Forbidden Emotions, XxLilyNGxX, Kikyo, PiNkLeMiNaDe00123.**_

_Here's a nice, long chapter for all of you! I hope you find it just as amusing as the previous chapters._

_-_

_**Disclaimer:** Nope. You're looking at the wrong person here._

-

**Chapter Four – Athrun and Yzak Sitting in a Tree…**

-

Athrun had to give their team credit. After one month in the academy, he and his teammates were still alive and kicking. He had to admit that he was half-expecting that by the end of their first week, they'd have torn each other's throats apart.

So far, each of them had endured empty death threats (presumably sent by either their own teammates or the other teams), inedible food from the cafeteria, more insults from their instructors, more of Miguel's arrogance, more skin-crawling love letters from girls, Nicol's perkiness in the morning, and, basically, cadet life in general.

He had learned a great deal about his teammates, too, whether he wanted to or not. He didn't really have much of a choice. No matter how hard he was trying to be so uncaring and detached, he knew he was bound to pick up certain things about his teammates.

Like for instance, he had grown used to Yzak claiming ownership to the bathroom every morning. They would wake up to the annoying sound of reveille and after the initial yawns and stretches, Yzak would snarl at them as he made his way towards the bathroom and then promptly slam the door on their faces. It wasn't that unusual, really. Yzak was always like that. What they found highly amusing (and highly disturbing) was his added morning routine of reaching underneath his bed for a pink basket.

Once, Rusty, with help from a very eager Dearka, tried to find out exactly what it was in there. Athrun had to admit that he was a little curious, too. Maybe it was one of the reasons why he covered-up for Dearka and Rusty's absence in the table while they were eating dinner that night. But thanks to their dumb luck – and Nicol's inability to lie – the mystery of Yzak's pink basket would have to remain a secret – for now.

And Yzak being a mommy's boy… well, -everyone- knew -that-.

Dearka had a dozen or so girlfriends and he would occasionally (read: ALWAYS!) ask for their letter-writing skills whenever he ran out of promises to tell the girls. After all, the whole 'I-love-you-and-I'll-marry-you-when-I-get-out-of-this-hell-hole' routine eventually gets really old.

And true to Miguel's prediction, Dearka never missed a single happy hour with their squad leader. One time, they all agreed to accompany Miguel to the 'hotspots' that he mentioned. Needless to say, Athrun felt like he was scarred for life. Even Yzak was blushing like an overripe tomato that night!

With Nicol, there were no surprises. What they saw was what they got. The green-haired lad wasn't pretentious. He was gentle, kind and possibly the nicest guy that ever walked on the face of the planet – or PLANT in their case. It was hard to imagine that he was training to be a soldier (and that he was male). Perhaps it came with his naturally calm demeanor (or maybe it was in his genes), but he was a very talented pianist. His skills with the piano were handy whenever one of them was feeling particularly insomniac.

Rusty was like Athrun and Yzak combined. No, it didn't mean that he was schizophrenic! It's just that one moment, he's blathering nonsense and snapping at anyone who dared come near him within a 20 kilometer radius; then he's all quiet and brooding the next. He also had a mischievous streak that could rival Dearka's. Athrun soon learned that despite Rusty's happy-go-lucky attitude though, he was really very sensitive.

Perhaps it came with the fact that he was in a team with people like Athrun, Yzak, Dearka and Nicol. Sometimes, he seems competitive (though not as much as Yzak when it comes to Athrun). They could all see that there was a desire in him to prove himself.

And lastly, Miguel. Miguel was an interesting character. He could be as arrogant as he wanted to, and just as annoying. He had an ego roughly the size of Jupiter and he had an uncanny ability of coming out on top even if he started out at the bottom.

He deemed happy hour as 'sacred' and won't let anything get in his way of having a good time. More often than not, he forgets what he is supposed to teach them and those incidences always end up with Athrun trying to fill in Miguel's spot.

But, he could be a good leader, too… if he wanted to, that is.

Athrun – he was surrounded by such an interesting bunch. What about him, then? Was he as interesting as them? Athrun felt slightly overwhelmed by how untroubled these people seemed to be. Was he that easygoing? Perhaps… But it seemed so long ago… That part of him that was still a teenager seemed to have gone on a permanent vacation.

He didn't find himself particularly interesting. He always heard the same things about him, 'son of Patrick Zala' and 'Lacus Clyne's fiancé.' Other than that, who was he really? Was this the result of losing his mother?

Maybe… the part of him that was happy, that was carefree, that was more than the 'son of Patrick Zala' or 'Lacus Clyne's fiancé' died along with Lenore Zala.

"Hey, Athrun!"

Apparently, his brain decided to take a little vacation as well.

He was jolted back to reality by Miguel knocking lightly (and rudely) on his forehead. Athrun blinked and he suddenly became aware of the fact that his entire team was looking weirdly at him.

They were on the field, standing in their line formation. They were supposed to be doing some drills, but judging from his teammates' comfortable and un-straight postures, it was clear that they haven't even begun yet. It was either Miguel was hung over or was feeling lazy. Either way, Miguel was still a superior officer and they were still in formation.

Athrun straightened his posture, cleared his throat, and said in a clear voice, "I apologize, sir."

Miguel's eyes twitched. "I told you to drop the 'sir'!" He smirked. "Anyway, glad to have you back in the realm of the living. I was just about to tell you five the bet that I made with Charlie-Two's squad leader."

"A bet… sir?" Athrun asked, his tone a little unsure.

"Yes, a bet," Miguel confirmed impatiently. "A bet: where one wagers something, like money for instance –"

Athrun felt his eyebrow twitch. "I am aware of what a bet is, sir."

"Argh! For the last time, STOP CALLING ME 'SIR'! IT'S MIGUEL!" the aforementioned person, then proceeded to glare at him.

Athrun raised his hand in a salute.

"You know, I'm not sure if he's mocking me or if he's really just like that."

Yzak sniggered. "Oh, are you asking us if Athrun is normally as robotic as that? If you are, then that would be a 'yes'."

'Robotic-as-his-mechanical-pets' Athrun glared at his silver-haired (gag) comrade.

Miguel gave Athrun an exasperated look and then sighed. "You know, you'd make the perfect soldier."

"Thank you, sir," Athrun answered promptly with, no surprises there, a salute.

"That wasn't a compliment, you idiot."

"Oh."

Miguel then steered the subject to more important matters like, say, the bet. "That prick from Charlie-Two has been my enemy since we were in diapers! He always makes it a point to make me look stupid! He's always competing with me!"

"I wonder, who does that remind me of?" Dearka asked dryly, looking pointedly at Yzak and Athrun, both of whom promptly glared at him.

Miguel didn't seem to notice the little exchange, or chose not to: he was on a roll. "He always steals the spotlight from me! He even stole my first ever girlfriend from me! He's the worst person that I have ever had the misfortune of meeting! Remember his name, but spit on it, nonetheless. His name is –" he paused for dramatic effect "– Mikhail Ayman."

Five pairs of eyes blinked at him.

Rusty gave their leader a skeptical look. "Ayman…? Are you, by chance, related to him?"

Miguel gave him an incredulous look. "Worse! We're -twins-! Haven't I told you he's been my rival since we were in diapers? Heck, I may not remember it, but we might have been enemies since we were in our mother's womb!"

Athrun didn't know what disturbed him more, Miguel having a twin or the image of Miguel and his twin, as fetuses, kicking each other in a cramped space that was a woman's womb. He fought the urge to wrinkle his nose and forced his face to remain as neutral as possible. _'Ugh. I did -not- just imagine that.'_

"It must be fun, having a twin," Nicol commented cheerfully.

"Weren't you listening?" Miguel exclaimed. "He's my rival!"

Nicol smiled. "Well, yes, you mentioned that. But take Athrun and Yzak, for example. They are rivals but they don't hate each other," he explained matter-of-factly.

"Earth to Nicol," Rusty knocked on Nicol's forehead. "Haven't you seen the murderous glares that Yzak has been giving Athrun ever since our first day here? Haven't you seen how Athrun always gets a kick out of at raising Yzak's ire?"

Dearka turned to Athrun and Yzak with a look on his face that promised he was up to no good. "Or maybe the two of you are secret lovers or something?" He put on a mock upset face. "Aw, Yzak, I'm hurt. I thought I was your best friend, but Nicol learned about it first?"

Steam was practically coming out of Yzak's ears, while Athrun glowered at Dearka with not-so-veiled murderous intent. Since Dearka was between the two of them, he each received a kick from the shins.

"OW!"

"HEY!" Miguel yelled impatiently. "We were discussing -my- situation here!" Then he gave Athrun and Yzak each an impish grin. "But I think you're on to something here, Nicol. I never thought –"

"Permission to speak, sir."

"Permission granted." Miguel rolled his eyes.

Athrun stepped forward. "One more word, sir, and I'll personally go to your brother and do everything that I can to sabotage you." He sounded like he was reporting about something as trivial as the weather, but they all noted the very obvious threat in his words.

Miguel's sneer was wiped off his face. "You wouldn't."

"I think I definitely would, sir. And I'm sure that Jule here would be willing to set aside our differences for a brief moment to conspire against you."

Miguel looked at Yzak and the look on the latter's face told him that Yzak would definitely sabotage him, given the chance. Miguel then scowled. "I wasn't even the one who started it!"

"And what about me?" Dearka asked smugly. "You can't blackmail me."

Athrun turned his head slowly to look at Dearka. "No…blackmail wouldn't work for you. But if you want to continue dating with your face intact, I suggest you shut up and stop making fun of me."

"What do you say to torture, Dearka?" Yzak growled at him.

Dearka sulked. "You two can't take a joke."

Athrun wasn't finished. He seemed really upset about it proven by the fact that he had been talking more than usual. "That goes for the rest of you…yes, even you Nicol."

Nicol gave a little nervous laugh.

"That is all." Then he stepped back into their line formation.

"How do you freakin' do that?" Miguel asked in wonder. "You're threatening us and yet, you still sound so respectful!" He paused. "Wait. Don't answer that." Then he crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. "Okay, going back to business, Mikhail came to me last night and asked me about you guys. Well, I told him you guys would no doubt be the top of the class… how our team was better than his in comparison. I'm not sure what I said, but I might have mentioned something about his team biting the dust before we do." He frowned. "Didn't take it too well, I guess…"

"I wonder why," Rusty asked sardonically with a roll of his eyes.

"And I guess I might have told him about how you guys got along so well… about how you were like brothers and stuff… Then he challenged me to –"

"Wait… back up a little," Rusty interrupted with a dubious look on his face. "We…get along?"

"I know I was fudging the truth a little…"

He was met with five incredulous looks.

Yzak snorted. "Like brothers!"

"What a dysfunctional family this must be," Athrun muttered dryly.

"Okay, I fudged it -a lot-," he amended. "But with my brother, you can't help but exaggerate a little. Plus, he made fun of my 'non-existent' leadership skills and he told me how wonderful, organized and cooperative his team was. And then he challenged me to go head to head with his team in the drill exhibition two weeks from now."

Yzak snorted. "Drill exhibition? What the hell are we gonna show them? You getting hung-over and Mr. Know-It-All here commanding us? We'd be the butt of jokes of the whole ZAFT!"

"That's why we're going to practice! We have two weeks to wow them with how well we march and stuff!" Miguel explained optimistically.

"What's in it for us?" Rusty asked.

"Huh?"

"Without proper motivation, how do you expect us to do well?"

Miguel pondered on it for a minute. "Have you no pride? You want to lose to a bunch of wimps?" he roared.

The looks on their faces showed that they could care less. Athrun, however, didn't want to lose to said bunch of wimps. And he had pride… Lots of it. But did Miguel deserve their help? After all, it was his fault they were in some kind of mess… He maintained the placid expression on his face.

"Alright, already!" Miguel scowled. "Sheesh, if anything goes wrong with your military career, you'd make good businessmen. We'll split the earnings."

"Deal!" Rusty, Yzak (who went along with it to see Miguel grovel) and Dearka (who went along with it because he had spent all of his remaining allowance on their previous happy hour) answered simultaneously.

"But we better win! Or else…" Miguel left the threat hanging. "Anyway, we have a lot of catching up to do. Registration ended last week but I managed to pull some strings and we got in." He didn't mention, however, that he had managed to pull that strings only because of his high-profile cadets.

"With all due respect, sir," Athrun said in a monotone, "Even if there was no drill exhibition slash contest slash bet, we would still be very far behind."

Miguel waved a hand nonchalantly. "Oh, you'll catch up just fine! You're quick learners! And you already know the basic commands. You know, 'forward march' and all that."

"Yes, sir, but I doubt the other teams would spend their fifteen minutes just marching around the field," Athrun countered – his tone still respectful.

"I'll fix that! We'll think of something that'll blow them away. Sheesh! A little confidence in your superior would be nice!" Miguel crossed his arms over his chest. "But before that, rule number one of warfare is to 'know your enemy'," he said seriously.

Yzak rolled his eyes. "Well, I guess that's Miguel-speak for 'I want you to spy on them!'"

Miguel applauded him mockingly. "I knew you were a genius! And since you're so knowledgeable, -you- will be the one to spy on them!"

Yzak was quick to react. "What? No way!"

Miguel sneered. "Oh… Then I guess that means I'll just have to give your mom a little call." He pretended to speak to an invisible phone. "Hello, Representative Jule? Oh, this is Miguel Ayman, Yzak's commanding officer. Well, it's just that your baby here doesn't want to cooperate… Hmm? Oh? You're going here to give him a piece of your mind? Sure thing, Mrs. J. See you!"

"You fucking bastard! I never knew you were this low!" Yzak seethed.

Miguel flashed him his smuggest smile. "So, Zakie-boy… I take that as a 'yes'." He pointed to the west. "Charlie-Two's assigned area is in the C-sector."

Dearka and Rusty exchanged meaningful glances. Athrun saw this and he frowned. _'Since when did they become friends?_' He groaned inwardly. They were clearly up to no good.

Dearka cleared his throat importantly. "Yzak might need help." He put on a mock thoughtful face. "Well, we all know I always tag along his escapades, but I'm not so sure this time. I'm not very good in doing surveillance work."

Rusty slapped his fist into his palm. "I know!" he exclaimed in a very fake cheerful voice. "Athrun's the perfect one!" He turned to Athrun, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "He's a very good spy!"

Miguel tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I said earlier that he'd make a great soldier…" He turned to Athrun and clapped him on the back. "Well, Athrun, you will be going with Yzak to spy on my friggin' twin brother!"

Athrun cursed his subservient nature and his knack for always following orders. He so wanted to give Miguel a piece of his mind (and maybe a piece of his fist). He was sure that Miguel was breaking a few rules in the rule book… But, something was stopping him from pointing this out. He gave Miguel a salute and walked towards the direction of sector C, with Yzak stomping angrily behind him.

"Good luck, you two!" Nicol called after them.

-

"That bastard is going down."

"I still cannot believe he managed to make me do this!"

"I swear I'm going to kill him someday."

"Using my mother against me… I never knew he'd stoop so low."

"Bastard."

Athrun sighed. No, he wasn't conversing with Yzak. Actually, Yzak was conversing with -himself-, grumbling quite coherently and kicking whatever was in his path. Yzak was a loudmouth – that was for certain. Athrun wanted to tell Yzak to shut up, but without anyone to restrain them, they might end up killing each other. It wouldn't look very good on his record if he was charged with murder on his first month in the academy.

He trudged on and then, he saw Miguel.

He blinked. Wasn't Miguel with the other traitors?

He stopped abruptly and squinted. They were at the far end of the field and the sun was getting in his eyes. Yzak, too busy grumbling to himself, bumped into his back.

"Hey! Watch it!"

Athrun pointed to the Miguel-doppelganger. "You think that's Mikhail?"

"Not unless they're triplets," Yzak answered sarcastically.

Athrun surveyed their surroundings. There were a couple of buildings on the left and some trees on the right. He deduced that the tree would be their best bet. He turned to Yzak. "Let's watch them from the top of a tree."

Yzak rolled his eyes. "Wow, spy on them from a tree, how original." But he followed Athrun, nonetheless.

They went to the tree as inconspicuously as possible. They looked around before climbing the tree effortlessly and, then settling on its branches (separately, of course). They were hidden from view by the leaves but they could clearly see and hear what was going on.

"Now what do we do?" Yzak muttered.

"We watch," Athrun whispered back. He looked at Yzak and gave him a slight smile. "You should just think of this as a break time."

"Break time, yeah right. Nothing could be more comfortable than sitting on a dumb tree and watching a bunch of morons march around," Yzak mumbled sarcastically.

Athrun took that as a cue to leave Yzak alone. He wasn't really on the mood for a shouting match with Yzak. Not to mention, it wasn't the time or the place. He turned his attention to Miguel's twin brother.

Mikhail Ayman looked just like his brother. But he was nowhere near the unlikable man that Miguel described. In fact, on a totally unbiased point of view, it would seem that Mikhail was indeed doing his job more efficiently than his twin brother. He could see how Mikhail patiently corrected the other cadets' mistakes and how he took his job seriously. There was one thing missing though.

The other cadets were indeed cooperative. But there was something…off.

He continued to watch them and it hit him. The cadets didn't seem much acquainted with each other. Too formal around each other, too polite…

_'Too perfect,'_ he thought. He remembered what Miguel said earlier, about him being a perfect soldier one day. Maybe this was what Miguel meant. Yes, respect was a military attitude. But they were still teenagers.

He shook his head ruefully. _'I never thought I'd see the day when I'd find my teammates' un-professionalism as 'normal'._

He looked back at the team of cadets below them. They certainly didn't give off the 'comradeship' and 'camaraderie' that Miguel was always blathering about.

_'Maybe… I should really drop the 'sir'.'_

"Miguel should take lessons from him," Yzak commented from the other branch.

Athrun thought back to their first meeting with Miguel. He smiled as he shook his head. "No, Miguel's doing fine."

"Yeah… doing a fine job of messing up, making fun of us, and generally making us look like a stupid bunch of morons."

"Well, would you rather that Mikhail and Miguel switch squads?"

Yzak gave him an 'Are-you-nuts?' look. "Hell, no!" he hissed. "I said Miguel should take lessons from him, not -be- him."

Athrun had to smile at that. _'Well, Yzak's not an idiot, after all.'_

They sat there in silence. A soft breeze rustled the trees and they could hear Miguel's – or rather – Mikhail's authoritative voice. He looked at Yzak from the corner of his eye. There was one thing that he had wanted to ask Yzak since he learned about it from Dearka.

But how should he open up the topic? None of them were exactly the touchy-feely type. Plus, Yzak might take offense and pummel him to the ground…Not very appealing since they were up in a tree. But, he had to do it. He sighed and cleared his throat.

Then, a little awkwardly, "How's your mother?"

Yzak didn't look at him as he brought his knees up to his chest and leaned on the tree trunk. "She's okay… she's past the grieving stage."

"Sorry about your father."

"Sorry about your mother."

Silence.

Athrun swallowed hard. It was difficult… talking about his mother. "You already told me that… Remember? When we first met Rusty? I never got the chance to offer my condolences, though."

Yzak didn't answer him; the situation was awkward enough as it was.

Athrun took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He felt his lips curl up in a wry smile. Yzak wasn't an idiot, after all. "Well, now that that's off our chest, we can go back to hating each other's guts in peace."

Yzak snorted, but smiled, nonetheless. It was an unusual sight. "Gladly."

-

_**Author's Notes: **Yes, I killed off Yzak's dad. Never knew what happened to him so I assumed he died. Well, there's the OC, right there. He won't play a major role and he won't steal the limelight from the Le Creuset Team, so don't worry._

_Now, please let me know what you think! I appreciate the ideas that you give me and I will try to incorporate them in the storyline. If reading this fic made you smile (even a quirk in your lips), then make -me- smile by **REVIEW**ing!_


	5. And Things Get Serious NOT!

_SPECIAL THANKS TO MY BETA-READER **LIA**! Belated Happy Birthday to you, best friend:)_

-

_**Author's Notes: **Thank you to everyone who reviewed: **Blue moon wolf**, **Centurious**, **silvermoon123**, **White Shadow**, **Warp Ligia Obscura**, **sugarbox**, **Attharun**, **XxLilyNGxX**, **lightyearsaway**, **azna-azure**, **Allie Night**. Thanks also to those who read it (but didn't leave a review)!_

_-_

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Gundam SEED. If I did, this little piece of fanfiction would most likely be animated._

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**Chapter Five – And Things Get Serious – NOT!**

-

Athrun mentally added (in Yzak's own words) "watching a bunch of morons march around" to his long list of 'things that bore him to death'. They had been sitting up there in the tree since 0725… a quick glance at his wristwatch told him that it was already 0855. They were supposed to go to their Military Strategy class in 30 minutes.

As for 'knowing the enemy'… well, all Mikhail and his bunch of morons did were to march around and do some fancy formations. Charlie-Two's cadets were very serious. So much so that nothing interesting had happened for the past hour and a half. Athrun couldn't help but think that, had that been their group that was being watched; the spy would have fallen off the tree and laughed himself to death.

After all, even he wasn't that immune to his teammates' stupid antics. Sometimes, he could feel a quirk in his lips. Not that he'd admit that aloud, of course.

His hand flew up to his mouth to cover the yawn that he had been suppressing for quite a while. He closed his eyes for a second. A soft breeze passed by and if he ignored Mikhail's authoritative voice below, it was almost like spending a lazy morning up on a tree before the war started.

Almost… if you also ignored the soft snores coming from the other branch.

He stared in disbelief at Yzak's slightly opened mouth. He -knew- he should've brought his digital camera with him! He was mentally cursing his dumb luck when his ears picked up a different sound other than Yzak's light snoring.

Someone was laughing. And it sounded like it was directed -at- them!

He froze up and hoped that the leaves would cover him up. But with the redness of his uniform and the green of the leaves, it was a losing battle.

"I bet that idiot Miguel put you up to this, huh?"

From Athrun's position, he could see that Mikhail was leaning comfortably in the tree trunk and was still observing his cadets. Athrun kept his silence in the hopes that Mikhail would just get the hint and leave him alone.

"I almost didn't see you, you know," Mikhail told him casually. "But your teammate's snoring gave your position away."

Athrun still kept quiet. His mind was reeling. He had never felt that embarrassed in his entire life! Was Mikhail the only one aware of their position? Or were the other cadets aware of it as well?

Mikhail chuckled softly. And as if reading his mind, "Don't worry. I was the only one who heard it."

Athrun rolled his eyes and gave Yzak a rather violent nudge. Yzak woke up immediately and promptly glared at him. "Ouch, what was that for?" he demanded without even lowering his voice.

"Great, Yzak. Just great," Athrun hissed. "If you'd please look down, you'll discover that we have been caught."

Yzak did look down and his eyes grew wide when he saw Mikhail. The latter gave a slight nod of his head to indicate that they had, indeed, been caught. Yzak gave Athrun an accusing glare – Athrun replied with a roll of his eyes.

"I knew from the start this was a stupid idea!" Yzak informed Mikhail sulkily. "Blame it all on your idiot brother." He ran his hand through his hair irritably before jumping and landing on the soft grass below. He looked up at Athrun. "I'm heading back. You tell Miguel what happened."

And Yzak did what he always did during these kinds of situations: walk away. Athrun inwardly snorted. _'-This- is the camaraderie that Miguel is always blabbing about,'_ he thought sarcastically. He looked down on Mikhail and fought the urge to groan. What was he supposed to do? Follow Yzak's example?

While he was still contemplating what to do, Mikhail straightened up and saluted to his cadets. "Dismissed."

The squad then dispersed and the two of them were alone. It seemed that the cadets were indeed oblivious of their superior's little visitor sitting up there in the tree. Athrun once again marveled at how Mikhail handled his subordinates meticulously. Miguel always ended their drills with a smirk, a mocking/careless salute and a _"Thank God this is over!"_

"So, tell me. What utter nonsense has my brother taught you?" Mikhail asked good-naturedly. "Aside from not addressing superiors, that is," he added pointedly.

Athrun took the hint and immediately jumped from the tree, landing gracefully on the soft grass below. He saluted and waited for Mikhail to acknowledge him.

"At ease."

"Thank you, sir." Athrun dropped his salute but still kept his posture straight.

"You haven't answered my questions, yet."

"Permission to talk freely, sir."

Mikhail's lips curled up in a wry smile. "I see Miguel still hasn't killed off all the respectful bones in your body," he mused out loud. "Permission granted."

Athrun stared unflinchingly into Mikhail's serious, amber eyes (so similar to his brother… yet still… -not-). "At first, there seemed many. But afterwards, they didn't seem very wrong after all."

"Judging from your posture, I'd say you're one to know which is right from wrong," Mikhail observed truthfully. "You think his actions are right? You think his attitude is right?"

Athrun shrugged. "Well, he's certainly… unusual. But I don't think that makes him wrong."

Mikhail gave a noncommittal laugh. "I don't think that makes him right, either."

Athrun could see that Mikhail clearly had some issues with his brother. But then again, it wasn't surprising considering how Miguel practically told them how much he abhorred Mikhail. They stood in silence for a few minutes.

"Did you know that I was supposed to handle your squad?" Mikhail asked him suddenly.

Athrun blinked. No, he didn't know about that, but now that Mikhail said it, it didn't seem very surprising. In fact, what he found surprising was the fact that their squad ended up with Miguel. "No… I was not aware of that until now, sir."

Athrun found it a little discomforting that Mikhail still refused to make eye contact with him. "You must be pondering on the difference between us… number one would have to be the way we treat our subordinates."

"He's not really into formalities. He says camaraderie comes first before that."

Mikhail finally stared directly in his eyes – facial expression unreadable. "Being 'close' to your teammates when there is really no guarantee that each and every one of you will leave the battlefield alive… that is irony at its finest."

And then Mikhail walked away. Athrun stood frozen on the spot, his mind reeling with the sudden realization.

Was he making friends only to lose them in the end?

-

When Athrun got back to his team, Yzak was nowhere in sight. Rusty, Dearka, Nicol and, of course, Miguel were lounging in the grass. The only thing missing were a blanket and a basket and it would have looked like a perfect, peaceful picnic. _'Great,_' Athrun though dryly, _'While I was burning my butt on top of a tree, they were having a friggin' picnic._' He approached them with what he hoped was a poker face. At the sight of him, Miguel stood up and frowned.

"Oi, what took you so long?" Miguel demanded immediately. Then, he looked around with a puzzled expression on his face. "Hey… where's the loudmouth?"

"He left me when your brother caught us," Athrun answered flatly.

"What the – ! You got caught!" Miguel turned his attention to Rusty. "Hey, you. Red! I thought you said he was sneaky!" he demanded with a violent jerk of his blond head in Athrun's direction.

Rusty scowled at him. "It's Rusty, goddamnit!"

"Yeah, yeah." Miguel waved his hand dismissively. He went back to glaring at Athrun. "What the hell did he tell you?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "He's not recruiting you for his team, is he?"

Athrun shook his head. "He just asked if you sent us there and what 'utter nonsense' you have been teaching us."

"Did he now? That bastard!" Miguel seethed. And he proceeded to curse his brother to oblivion. After he had settled down, he asked, with uncharacteristic skepticism etched in his voice, "Am I?"

"What?"

"Teaching you utter nonsense."

Athrun was very tempted to say 'yes' just to spite him. But his good-guy senses ticked in. "That depends."

Miguel sighed. "You're not going to give me a straight answer, are you?"

"Not really."

"Well, thank you very much," Miguel said sarcastically. He turned to the other three. "Get up, you bums! You have five minutes to run across the field and get to your next class!"

Nicol stood up immediately while Rusty and Dearka did so with much grumbling and complaining. After saying their polite (Nicol and Athrun) and not-so polite (Dearka and Rusty) goodbyes to their superior officer, they headed to their Military Strategy class.

Miguel stared at the retreating backs of his subordinates. They were a good bunch, really. They might act like they hated each other's guts, but he could see that it was all for show. They clearly considered each other as friends, even though they'd rather eat their feet before they admit it.

And then there was his so-called 'brother'…

His eyes narrowed. It was clear that Mikhail told quite some things to the Zala kid. He turned around and was shocked to see his own self smirking at him.

"Ahhhhhh!" He didn't know his face could look -that- creepy!

That's it! He always knew Mikhail was the evil twin! He starts thinking about him and – poof! – he shows up all of a sudden! "God! Would you stop doing that?"

Mikhail gave him an amused look. "What, giving you a taste of your own medicine?"

Miguel scowled. "You know what I mean. Anyway, what are you doing here, aside from irritating me?"

"Hmm… didn't know that was illegal now," Mikhail said mock-thoughtfully.

Miguel rolled his eyes. "Very funny."

Mikhail smiled very widely. "Why, thank you. I wasn't even trying, you know."

"What in the freaking hell do you want?" Miguel demanded, annoyed.

Mikhail's face turned serious. "You're not doing your job right. They're here for -training-, Miguel. -Training-. Get that through your thick skull. They aren't here to learn about solidarity, amity, or whatever."

"That's it?" Miguel rolled his eyes. "You came all the way here to tell me that? I get that from you every freaking day! Can't you wait until I get home?"

"You're not taking this seriously!"

"I'm -listening- to you! Doesn't that count for something?" Miguel huffed exasperatedly. "Just let me do my own thing, okay? Soldiers are also supposed to watch out for each other in the battlefield!"

"Miguel! Those things that you are not teaching them might cost them their lives!" Mikhail exclaimed, his voice getting angrier by the second.

"They know all the basic stuff! Quit antagonizing me!" Miguel retorted, just as angrily.

The twins gave each other identical death glares. Mikhail, being the more mature one, broke eye contact initially but it was Miguel who spoke first. "I know what I'm doing," he muttered quietly. Then he snorted. "And wipe that expression off your – my, whatever – face. You look constipated. You know I hate it when my face looks like that."

Mikhail blinked. "Oh, really?" he asked sardonically. "Gods, we can't have that!"

Miguel's only reply was a stupid grin.

-

"So, Athrun," Dearka began with an idiotic grin on his face, "How did it go?"

Athrun decided to play stupid. "What?"

Rusty laughed. "You know…" he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Your morning with Yzak!"

"He snored," Athrun answered impassively.

Rusty and Dearka guffawed while Nicol just smiled. They were on their way to the mess hall for lunch. Their morning schedule prevented them from discussing the subject. Add to the fact that Athrun made it -extremely- hard for them by purposely ignoring them and exiting the room as if the devil were at his heels. And considering Rusty's and Dearka's evil expressions, one could say that the devil -was- after him. Yzak… well, he was excused from class several minutes before the bell rang and just a look from him told them clearly to 'get lost'.

"So, was it true that you spied on them from the top of a tree?" Rusty asked in between guffaws.

Athrun's eyebrow twitched.

Dearka flashed him a mischievous grin. "Athrun and Yzak sitting in a tree…" he warbled.

Rusty gave him the same look. "K-I-S-…"

Athrun grabbed Rusty's collar and pressed his fountain pen to Rusty's neck. Rusty paused in his singing and laughed nervously. "Come on, buddy! Can't you take a joke?"

Athrun's eyes had a murderous glint in them. "No… And if you don't cease and desist, you will walk around for the rest of your life with a pen stuck in your jugular vein."

Rusty raised his hands in surrender. "Yes, yes. I'll 'cease and desist'. Sheesh."

Athrun turned to Dearka with the same homicidal look. Dearka felt some beads of sweat pop in his temple. "Ditto, Athrun. Ditto."

Nicol let out a nervous laugh to get rid of the awkward silence that followed. He swore on his beloved piano to keep Athrun away from any pointy objects from then on. "Come on, guys, let's go eat lunch."

Athrun shrugged and began to walk towards the direction of the mess hall and the rest of them followed suit.

"Athrun can be scary sometimes," Nicol whispered to Rusty.

To his surprise, Rusty laughed. "Nah, it's just like what he told me about Yzak. 'His bark is worse that his bite.'" He laughed again. "You know, I think that applies with everyone in the team."

Nicol smiled. It was true. They rarely mean what they say.

They finally reached the lunchroom and they saw that Yzak was already sitting at their usual table with the usual scowl on his face. Dearka and Rusty made a silent agreement to lay off on Yzak with the teasing. If Athrun – who was usually so calm and level-headed – acted that way, Yzak would most probably kill them right on the spot. After getting their lunch trays, they made a beeline towards Yzak.

"Where were you?" Dearka asked carefully, as he sat down.

Yzak shot them all an icy look, as if daring each of them to laugh. "I got a call from my mother."

Nicol smiled as he reached for his glass of water. "That's nice. She must be worried considering the on-going war. My mom calls me for the same reasons."

Dearka swallowed his food and nodded slowly. "Yeah, I talked to my parents yesterday and they didn't sound very happy."

"My father called me the other day and told me that he had been hearing quite some things about our squad. Must be about the whole 'Yzak-kicking-the-info-kiosk' thing… That was over a month ago and they still haven't forgotten it," Rusty said jokingly. "What about you, Athrun? Did your parents give you a call?"

The whole table fell silent. Dearka paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. Nicol stared at Athrun, waiting for his reaction. Yzak looked intently at his plate, as if it was the most interesting thing on the PLANTs.

After several seconds, Rusty let out a defeated sigh. "I said something wrong again, didn't I?" He groaned. "I'll understand if I have to walk for the rest of my life with a fountain pen sticking in my jugular, Athrun."

Athrun felt his lips curl up in a wry smile. Was it just him or was it 'confess-your-darkest-secrets-day'? "My dad and I… haven't talked seriously since Junius Seven." He paused. "My mom was one of the casualties," Athrun added quietly.

"Oh, I…didn't know," Rusty mumbled apologetically and quite embarrassedly. "I'm sorry, Athrun."

"Hey!" Dearka exclaimed suddenly, attempting to steer the subject to clearer waters. "Have you heard Lacus' new single yet?"

Yzak's face lit up. Not one to pass up an opportunity to make fun of Rusty and Athrun, "Wait a sec! I think I found something in the news this morning!" He whipped out his PDA and began tapping on it like crazy. "Here it is! 'Pink Princess Dedicates Song to Fiancé!'" He rolled with laughter. "That's you, moron!" he roared, pointing at Athrun with his fork.

"Oh, I've heard it! It's called 'In this Quiet Night; it's really nice," Nicol commented. "Hmmm… Now that I think about it, the song -does- seem to pertain to Athrun."

Yzak tapped some more and then grinned evilly. "Brace yourselves." And then, Lacus' melodic voice began singing. There was silence and after Athrun's face had turned several shades of red, Yzak and Dearka began to hoot.

"Come on, Athrun! Smile for Lacus!" Dearka howled.

"Bet you liked that, Rusty," Yzak sneered.

"Shut up, loudmouth," Rusty hissed back. He then proceeded to grovel down his food like there was no tomorrow.

"Is this 'tease Athrun day'?" Athrun asked irritably, slicing his food violently in the process. "Can't we talk about something else? Like how we're going to survive that drill competition alive, for starters. In case you haven't noticed, all of ZAFT's VIPs are going to be there. And guess who're they going to be watching like a hawk?"

"Thanks for reminding us, Zala," Yzak grumbled sarcastically. "You don't know how much I appreciate being reminded that we're going to look like idiots two weeks from now!"

"Come on guys, have some faith in Miguel," Nicol said optimistically. "He sort of promised us that he'll come up with something decent, right?"

Rusty rolled his eyes. "You're counting on -Miguel- to come up with something decent?" He pretended to think hard. "Are we talking about the same Miguel?"

"Either way, we have to do everything that we can," Dearka pitched in. "I hate losing. And I'm not going to look like a moron in front of all the girls that will be there!" And for emphasis, he flashed a winning smile that made some girls from a table nearby swoon.

Athrun sighed. _'What a way to inspire them.'_

-

Athrun had always enjoyed their mobile suits training out of all their afternoon classes. Maybe it was because he found anything involved with mechanics fascinating. He was picking up his belongings when he saw a bunch of giggling girls approaching him. Well, actually, he -heard- them before he saw them.

"Um, Mr. Zala?" Giggle. Giggle. "We heard Miss Lacus' song today, and we just wanted to ask you… was that song really meant for you?"

Athrun blinked. He could feel his cheeks heat up. _'Confirmed. It -is- 'tease-Athrun-day'…'_ he thought miserably. He smiled awkwardly. "Er…" He looked around helplessly for any sign of his teammates. For the first time since he entered the academy, -he- was actually -looking- for his teammates! _'Nicol, Rusty, Dearka… heck, even Yzak, help…'_

Giggle. Squeal. "Was it really for you, Athrun?"

Athrun looked around helplessly and his heart sank with the realization that his so-called 'friends' had already left the room. He was about to give up hope when he heard an unfamiliar voice call out to him.

"Athrun…? Athrun Zala? From Miguel Ayman's squad?"

Athrun smiled in relief. He turned to the girls and said with a fake apologetic smile, "Sorry… someone's calling me. Please excuse me." And with that, he immediately approached the person who called him. He was obviously from his class, but Athrun felt like he had seen this person before. As he got closer, he realized that the black-haired, blue-eyed young man belonged to Mikhail's squad.

"You just saved me from a fate worse than death," Athrun muttered. He flashed an uncertain smile. "Yes, I am from Miguel Ayman's squad."

The other man smiled, an open and inviting one. "I'm from his twin brother's squad. My name is Henrik Fousche."

Athrun shook the Henrik's outstretched hand. "Athrun Zala… but I guess you already knew that."

"Who wouldn't? Your squadron's pretty popular around here," Henrik commented good-naturedly. "I heard that you'll be joining the drill exhibition as well?"

Athrun nodded.

"Well, that's good then." Henrik flashed him a smug grin. "May the best team win." From the tone of his voice and the smirk on his face, it seemed as if the best team was already decided.

Athrun gave Henrik a tight smile.

Henrik looked at his watch. "I have to get going, see you around!" He waved as we made his way out of the room.

Athrun sighed. _'That was…interesting…'_ He kept his gaze fixed on the door even after Henrik had gone out; his mind on other things, like, perhaps, where did his freaking teammates go? His question was answered when Rusty entered the room, slightly out of breath. His eyes narrowed automatically.

Rusty approached him and sighed tiredly. "Hey, what's taking you so long? The other guys sent me to look for you. We're about to finally practice some target-shooting and we can't start if one's missing," he informed Athrun.

Athrun's only reply was a death glare.

Rusty straightened up and held his hands up in mock surrender. "What the hell did I do now?"

Athrun glared. "Why'd you leave me behind? I was ambushed by a bunch of giggling girls." He winced inwardly at the memory, but he tried to mask it as he picked up his belongings and walked out of the room.

Rusty followed suit. After falling into step beside Athrun, he rolled his eyes. "Well, you didn't seem to be in a very good mood today." He shrugged. "I mean, you're always aloof but you're even more hostile today."

Athrun glanced at Rusty at the corner of his eyes and sighed tiredly. "Sorry. I just have… a lot of things on my mind."

"Is this…about the stuff I said earlier?" Rusty asked after a moment's hesitation. "If it is, I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely. "I guess you've noticed that I tend to put my foot in my mouth most of the time," he finished, somewhat seriously.

Athrun paused. Rusty's words ran through his mind one more time. "Er… you can do that?"

Rusty paused as well. He looked suspiciously at Athrun. "Do what?"

"Put your – er – foot in your mouth?"

It was awhile before Athrun's words sank in and Rusty howled with laughter. "I was speaking figuratively, dum-dum! Gods… and I thought you were smart!"

Athrun was annoyed at first. But after a few minutes, he realized that it -was- funny and he started chuckling as well. Rusty, seeing that Athrun wasn't being antagonistic, laughed even harder. But after a few more minutes, Rusty still hadn't gotten hold of himself. Athrun sighed and glared at him. "Hey, don't push it."

"Sorry," Rusty apologized in between laughs. "Anyway, don't think about it, Athrun. I'm sure your father will come around."

Athrun chose not to reply to Rusty's statement. _'Hmm… my father – come around, yeah right,'_ he thought sulkily.

"He's your father, after all."

They walked in companionable silence after that. They reached their Weapons Training class and Athrun saw that Yzak, Dearka, and Nicol were already there. Nicol waved at them and motioned for them to come over.

At the sight of them, Yzak immediately gave them both his trademark death glare. "Why the hell did you take so long?" he demanded irritably. "My hands are itching to get a hold of a gun." He gave Athrun a nasty look. "Who knows? Maybe I'll miss the target and shoot Athrun instead."

Athrun busied himself with preparing for their hands-on lesson. Without looking at Yzak, he said, "Knowing your terrible aim, Yzak, I guess that's very possible."

-

That night, Athrun got a strange phone call. Not the prank-phone-call kind of strange. It was the twilight-zone kind of strange. He stared in disbelief at the monitor of the video phone.

"It's been a while, Athrun."

It was a phone call from his father, Patrick Zala.

-

_**Author's Notes**: How was it? Was it just as amusing? I sure hope so. I managed to inject some serious stuff along with the funnies…_

_To answer a few questions… Some cadets from Mikhail's squad will be mentioned, they won't get much screen time, that's for sure. They're just – er – there. Well, except for Henrik. There's a reason why I gave him a name, you know. But… he'll just be a background character. Mikhail seems freaky according to Warp (do you mind if I call you that?), heh. Miguel seems to think so, too. They -are- opposites but not totally… you'll see. And thanks to azna-azure's juicy tidbits… expect more funnies to come!_

_Okay… so tell me if I got any characters wrong or if you're getting tired of the original characters or if you think I'm not doing the fic justice or if I misspelled something or if something seems unclear to you. What I'm trying to say is, **REVIEW**! Pretty please? Rant, rage, rave, read, review… leave me a message!_


	6. Welcome to the Twilight Zone

_**Author's Notes: **A big **thank you** to **Lia**, my beta reader._

_**THANKS** also to those who reviewed: **ritachi**, **wellduh…**, **koyuki-hime**, **lightyearsaway**, **Centurious**, **Warp Ligia Obscura**, **Allie Night**, **XxLilyNGxX**, **Maryam Khanoom**, **GodNo127**, **Attharun**, **White Shadow**, and **silvermoon123**._

_FanFiction (dot) net's reviewer reply feature will be used for replies._

_-_

_**Disclaimer: **Nope, still don't own it. I own Mikhail and Henrik, though. And technically, Rusty's and Miguel's personalities are (sort of) mine as well. So, hah._

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**Chapter Six – Welcome to the Twilight Zone**

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"Hey, are you coming or what?" Yzak asked as soon as he noticed that Dearka and Rusty were still lounging on their respective beds.

Dearka looked up from the magazine that he was reading and shook his blond head. "Go on ahead. It's still a bit early."

Rusty gave a sheepish smile. "I still have to finish my assignment in Mil-Strat."

Athrun gave a noncommittal shrug and exited the room, Nicol following suit. Yzak remained behind, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Since when did you two get along?"

"Didn't you hear us? We're here for totally different reasons," Rusty answered promptly.

"Whatever." Then he snarled. "If I ever see you anywhere near my belongings, I'll skin you alive." With that final threat, he closed the door behind him.

Dearka let out a breath he realized he had been holding. "I thought they'd never leave!"

Rusty scrambled out of his bed and rushed to Yzak's. He let out an evil laugh. "Now, we'll finally discover what's inside that pink basket!" He reached under the bed and pulled out the mysterious thing. After a cry of triumph, he deposited it on Dearka's bed, which was beside Yzak's.

Rusty grinned deviously and reached for the lid – when Dearka's hand shot up and stopped him. "Wait a minute, I feel kind of bad doing this to Yzak," he confessed.

Rusty scoffed. "Come -on-! This is our chance! We failed the first time but Nicol's not with us anymore! No one's going to tell on us. Argh, for god's sakes, don't you feel a tad offended?"

"Why the hell would I get offended?"

"You're Yzak's best friend, right? And yet he didn't tell you about this? Where's the trust in that, huh? Where's the love?" Rusty finished dramatically. Seeing the weird look that Dearka gave him, he smiled sheepishly. "Let's pretend I never said the last part. So, are you ready?"

Dearka smirked naughtily and nodded, completely forgetting about his earlier hesitation. He could almost taste the blackmail in the air.

They each took a deep breath and lifted the lid…

…only to find out that it was locked.

They both groaned at the same time. Looks like the contents of Yzak's pink, plastic basket would have to remain a mystery for another day.

"Who'd have thought that Yzak had brain's enough to lock it?" Rusty commented, half-jokingly.

Dearka glared at him. "And who'd have thought that you didn't even think about it?"

After they got over their 'defeat', they decided to finally go down. It was nearly time for their morning drills with Miguel (That sounded like a talk show!). When Rusty reached for the doorknob, he twisted and turned it and pulled it but nothing happened. "What the heck…? It's stuck!"

Dearka pushed Rusty aside and kicked the door but still, nothing happened. "Shit!"

Then, they heard faint laughter and voices behind the door.

-

"So… let me get this straight," Miguel began, with slight incredulity evident in his voice, "You were late because both of you got locked inside your quarters?"

Dearka crossed his arms and snarled. "Do I have to repeat it!"

Rusty nodded, the expression on his face unusually deathly serious. "I think it was those guys from Charlie-Two… I overheard one of them say Mikhail's name." His eyes narrowed menacingly. "Nobody tries to make a fool of me and gets away with it… Nobody."

"Yeah, nobody but us," Yzak snickered.

Rusty glared at him.

"But…Mikhail plays by the rules!" Miguel exclaimed. "That seems like something that -I- would make my cadets do, not Mikhail. Between the two of us, he's the good cookie!"

"Maybe they acted on their own accord," Nicol suggested helpfully. "Or maybe it wasn't the Charlie-Two squad at all; Mikhail's not an uncommon name."

Miguel sighed. "I guess… But, I'll still talk to Mikhail about this later."

Rusty was quick to react. "And make us look like we ran to you for help? HELL NO!" He crossed his arms and pouted childishly. "It was bad enough having been sort of saved by one of them."

Miguel stared at him in disbelief. "Someone from -their- team -saved- you!"

"Don't remind me," Rusty answered sulkily. "And I said he 'sort of' saved us! Sort of! He just opened the door for us!"

"What difference does it make?" Miguel snorted. "Two members of my team – my OWN team – got saved by a member of the enemy! How embarrassing is that?" He gasped dramatically – and somewhat sarcastically. "I may have to move to another PLANT! Oh, the shame, the –"

"Oh, shut up," Rusty muttered dryly.

"Grow up for a second, will you?" Dearka asked warily.

"And I suppose -you- could show me how?" Miguel retorted sarcastically.

Nicol stepped in between Miguel and Dearka. "Guys, come on… let's stop fighting and start planning!"

"Nicol's right, you know," Yzak added wisely. But anyone from a mile away could see that it was just an act. It was Yzak, after all. 'Yzak' and 'wisely' did not belong in the same sentence. Sure enough, he smirked at Dearka. "So… who's the dumb guy that saved your asses?"

"The black-haired one," Dearka muttered sulkily. "He's in a few of our classes."

"Wait, I just remembered… There aren't that many black-haired Coordinators around here…" Rusty pondered on it for a few seconds. And then his eyes lit up in recognition. He turned to Athrun. "Hey, Athrun, haven't we seen that person before? I remember you talking to him a few days back."

Athrun shrugged ambiguously. "Was I? I don't remember."

"He said his name was Henrik."

Athrun just shrugged again.

Miguel flashed him a suspicious look. "You aren't fraternizing with the enemy, are you?" He let out a breath of exasperation. "Athrun! For all we know, he could be sent to figure out our secrets!"

Dearka rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Secrets? What secrets?"

"We haven't got any secrets to begin with, bastard!" Yzak snapped sarcastically.

"Hey! Stop calling me bastard! My parents were married when they had me!" Miguel exclaimed. Yzak always called him a bastard and it was getting really old. Maybe he should tell Yzak to look for more insults?

"Very funny," Yzak muttered darkly.

"Why, thank you." Miguel smirked. "I wasn't even trying, you know." As soon as the words left his mouth, however, he realized that he had heard that phrase from his evil twin brother. He stuck out his tongue disgustedly. "Remind me to never use those words again!"

Dearka rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He crossed his arms. "Listen, Miguel, when are you planning to make us practice drills?" He shrugged. "I was just wondering."

"I knew it," Miguel answered quietly. "I knew it."

Yzak snorted. "Well, that's a surprise."

"You're all ganging up on me!" Miguel pointed at them accusingly. When he was met with five incredulous stares, he broke in to laughter. "Aw, I was just kidding around." He reached for his pockets and pulled out five disks. He waved it tauntingly before throwing it at each of them.

Nicol caught it just in time before it fell on the dewy grass. "What's this?" He turned it over on his hand, looking for labels or anything of the sort.

Miguel was smirking, looking mighty proud of himself. "Watch those and tell me what you think next meeting." He glanced at his wristwatch and gave them a sloppy, mocking salute. "Dismissed."

With that he walked away without a backward glance.

The five of them looked at each other.

"Did he just give us homework?" Yzak asked dubiously, breaking the silence.

-

Until lunch time, they were still pondering the mystery of Miguel actually giving them some sort of assignment. They sat at their usual table currently discussing a very important topic – one that could very well determine their future with the military.

Rusty chewed his food thoughtfully and then swallowed it. "I still think it's some sort of prank."

Nicol shook his head. "I don't think so. He seemed kind of serious this morning." He flashed them an apologetic smile. "And I was thinking… maybe we've offended him or something?"

Dearka and Yzak exchanged meaningful looks then burst into laughter. "Miguel has the thickest hide on the planet!"

"With an ego to match…" Athrun muttered under his breath. His chin was on his arm and was looking at his food, playing with the carrots and corn kernels.

Nicol mentally noted that Athrun had been brooding since the past few days and had seemed even more distant. He poked Rusty in the ribs and the latter replied with a nasty look. Nicol pointed at Athrun with his fork discreetly.

Rusty shook his head and motioned for him to leave Athrun alone.

Yzak shot both of them weird looks. "What the heck are you gesturing about?" he asked suspiciously.

"Hey! I just remembered!" Rusty blurted out, ignoring Yzak's question. "We've only got one-and-a-quarter weeks left before the exhibition!"

"Ugh… Are you doing a countdown? Don't remind us," Dearka replied dryly. "I think it's just better if we just quit right here and right now before we make total morons out of ourselves."

Yzak snickered. "Oh, I don't know about that. You and Rusty seem to be doing just fine with looking like total morons without anyone's help." He let out a guffaw. "Honestly! Who the hell would get locked inside their own rooms!"

"There was outside help, mind you!" Rusty retorted. "Literally speaking," he added sulkily. Then, he threw a pea at Yzak. "Although I wonder… what the hell was that Henrik person doing in our floor? As far as I can remember, Charlie is one floor below us," he mused.

Yzak threw a carrot at Rusty before replying. "Who knows? Maybe he's a member of the Athrun Zala-Loves-Lacus Clyne fan club and was snooping around for some 'Athrun-mementos'."

Dearka sniggered while Rusty frowned. On the other hand, Athrun's head suddenly shot up and he stared at Yzak with an unreadable expression on his face.

Yzak smirked. "Ooh… I see you're finally awake. And all it took was Lacus' name? I have to remember that," he said mockingly.

Athrun ignored him and stood up, muttering something about having finished his lunch. He left the lunchroom without looking back. Yzak grinned triumphantly.

Nicol had an uncharacteristic frown on his face. "Okay, something's just totally wrong this day."

"Number one: Dearka and Rusty getting along and getting locked up in our room," Yzak wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Rusty threw a corn kernel on Yzak's direction. "Number two: Miguel -actually- giving us homework," he pitched in.

Dearka threw Yzak, not a piece of his food, but a disgusted look which then changed into a teasing one. "Number three: -Athrun- walking out, and not -Yzak-… Yup, something's wrong alright."

Yzak's reply was a pea-projectile which hit Nicol in the eye.

"Ow!"

Rusty snickered. "You -do- have a bad aim."

-

Athrun walked briskly along the corridors of the residence hall. His eyes were looking straight ahead, his posture rigid, but his mind was on other things.

His conversation with his father a couple of nights ago was still on his mind. The things that his father said… He couldn't believe it. He knew his father had changed when the tragedy happened but last night, his father was…-different-.

Honestly, he didn't know whether to believe it or not, or to feel flattered or offended.

The corridors were empty, as most of the cadets were eating lunch. Athrun's footsteps were light and soundless, so he was a bit startled when he heard sounds coming from the corner stairwell. He slowed down and pressed his back on to the wall. He strained his hearing and he recognized Henrik's voice and Mikhail's.

_"Are you sure, Fousche?"_

_"Positive, sir… Is that all? Sir?"_

_"Listen, Henrik, was it? If you hear about anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to inform me. Is that understood?"_

_"Sir, yes, sir."_

_"Dismissed."_

Athrun heard footsteps and he quickly ducked into one of the rooms. He closed the door behind him softly and pressed his ear to it, in case he heard something more. But there was nothing else, only the sound of footsteps fading into the distance.

He sighed and straightened up. And that was when he realized just what kind of room he had entered. The pink tiles and the brightly-lit bulbs surrounding the mirror was enough indication. Apparently, in his haste, he had ducked into the -girl's- bathroom.

He felt his cheeks heat up. Fortunately for him though, it was empty. He was about to exit it when he heard giggles coming from outside. He distinctly heard one of them say something about 'going to the lavatory'.

He panicked and left with no other choice, quickly entered a stall. Just as he had locked it, he heard the door to the bathroom swung open and the sound of the giggling intensified. Through the slits near the hinges, his heart sank when he saw that it was the same girls that had cornered him days ago.

_"He's just so cute!" _Giggle, giggle.

Swoon. _"Miss Lacus is really lucky to have him!"_

_"I wonder if he's a good kisser?"_

Three high pitched squeals.

The last comment set Athrun's cheeks on fire (and made his ears hurt). He silently prayed that if he got of this alive, he swore that he would never eavesdrop on a conversation in a stairwell ever again…

-

The instructor glared at him but otherwise said nothing as Athrun entered the classroom. He surmised that maybe he got off easily because it was his first time being late. With a disgruntled sigh, he proceeded to make his way towards his assigned seat.

"Where'd you go?" Rusty whispered to him as soon as he took his seat.

"Bathroom," Athrun whispered back, his cheeks heating up again. He concluded that girls really spent half their lives inside the bathroom. He had waited for the giggling girls to go out of the bathroom before he did but it took longer than expected. And that was why he was late. He fought the urge to groan. Of all the rooms in the building, why did he have to pick that one?

"Do you have a fever?" Nicol, who sat on his left, muttered worriedly. "You're red all over."

Athrun shook his head. Rusty and Nicol exchanged dubious looks but left him alone anyway and went back to listening to their instructor. He sat up straighter and began to take notes. After awhile, he scratched the back of his neck – a sign that he was uneasy.

He couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was looking at him. He glanced at his squad-mates but it wasn't them. Rusty was staring on empty space, Nicol was taking notes, Dearka was flirting with one of their female classmates, and Yzak was actually -listening intently- to the lesson.

Thinking that it had to be his other classmates, he pretended to get something from his bag and as his bangs hid his eyes, he looked around and searched for the culprit.

His eyes roamed the whole lecture hall swiftly until it stopped on a black-haired boy, sitting stock still. His lips curled up in a tiny smirk when he noticed who it was. Piercing, blue eyes were staring daggers at him.

'_Bingo.'_

_-_

It had been a long day and all five of them were more than happy that it was about to end. But before they went to bed, they remembered Miguel's disks and decided to watch it (but not without a generous amount of protests coming from Rusty and Dearka). They (Rusty, Dearka and Yzak, that is) bullied Nicol into letting them use his laptop.

As Nicol was setting it up on the center table, Dearka asked jokingly, "Who's got the popcorn?" and he was promptly smothered by three different pillows.

They gathered around it, somewhat curious about the contents of the disk. After all of them had settled down, Nicol inserted his disk. A few clicks and Miguel's face appeared on the screen with the usual smug expression on his equally smug face.

_"Hello, my minions!"_

"What the fuck is this about!" Yzak demanded.

_"Don't I look great on T.V. or what? I was actually asked to star alongside Lacus Clyne on her debut movie but I declined. I told them, I'd rather serve my country first."_

Athrun produced a little disapproving sound at the back of his throat.

"_Well, let's get back to business before Soldier-Boy decides to sabotage me. Watch the next clips, morons, because that's the next important part, second only to my handsome face. Anyway, remember to take note of the preparatory commands, the commands of execution and, of course, the actions that accompany those. Watch the techniques carefully, especially when handling the rifles, okay?"_

Rusty turned bewildered eyes to the other four. "Wait… Is he actually teaching us?"

"Through this?" Dearka asked, with mixed awe and doubt on his voice.

"It seems that way," Nicol answered amiably.

_"Now, I'll be running a commentary while you watch the clips. Oh, and Soldier-Boy, you're not in the field so don't go shocking your mates by snapping a salute at me, got that? Now, let's review the basics. The proper way of saluting is with the fingers of your right hand properly extended…"_

Athrun covered his mouth with his hands to hide the smile tugging on his lips.

-

The next morning was, as usual, greeted by the sound of the 'Reveille.' Athrun and the others were all bleary-eyed, having spent the whole night watching the disk that Miguel gave them. But for some reason, Yzak was even more surlier than usual, and his hair was not as straight as it was yesterday. And instead of glaring at them, he was glaring at his pink basket. They all ignored it, however, not wanting to upset their teammate more and they all assumed that it was just the result of not having a good night's sleep. And so, all of them slept all throughout breakfast, not caring at the slightest if they missed it or not.

At precisely ten minutes before seven, they all proceeded to the field for their morning 'breaks' with Miguel. Upon reaching there, however, the saw something that made their jaws drop open in surprise. (Except Athrun though, he never 'jaw-dropped'. No, sir. But his eyes went wide, indicating that he was surprised as well.)

There, in their usual spot below the shade of the oak tree, was none other than Miguel looking fresh and ready (not to mention, sober). He was smirking at them. Anyone, even a preschooler, would say that he was gloating.

Yzak scoffed. "What are you looking so proud for? You just did your job, which I might say was long due?"

"Is that any way to talk to your superior?" Miguel mock-asked. "Anyway, come on you lazy bums! Fall in!"

There were grumbled complaints from Rusty, Yzak and Dearka as they went into their standard formation – a single, horizontal line in front of Miguel.

"So, what did you think of my disks?" Miguel asked them, as soon as the muttering died down.

"It was okay and I learned a lot, much more than I can say for your -actual- lessons," Yzak answered. Afterwards, he snarled. "By why couldn't you have taught us during these times, not at night!"

Miguel whistled. "Someone's having a bad-hair day," he muttered dryly. Then, he sighed. "Come on, you lug-heads! Can't you even sacrifice one measly night? You always go to your classes refreshed and awake unlike your fellow cadets because I give you time to relax! Sheesh! You'd think I'd get a thank you for that, but 'NOOOOOoooooOOOOOoooo."

There was silence after that. No one spoke, not even Yzak (although he was itching to yell at Miguel for that 'bad-hair day' comment). Honestly? They hadn't thought of it that way. They were thinking more along the lines of, 'Cause you're either feeling lazy or hung over.'

Nicol, ever the polite and sensitive one, stepped forward to apologize. "Sorry, Miguel."

Miguel let out a snort. "Hey, I was only kidding with the last part, but the first part is mostly true. We're Coordinators. We're supposed to be superior – fast learners. I wanted you to concentrate on your other subjects than learning drills and military code and conduct! I wanted you to know each other, get close to each other, learn to watch out for each other.

"War isn't just about fighting enemies," he continued, uncharacteristically serious. "It's also about protecting your friends. Sure, I can teach you how you should always follow your superiors and how to understand commands, but what good's gonna do that to you if you don't even care for your own squad? We're not morons and heartless bastards like those gun-men from the EA."

Athrun took a deep breath. But before he opened his mouth to ask for permission, Miguel interrupted him. "Ugh. There you go again, Soldier-Boy." He rolled his eyes. "Even though I'm pouring my heart out here, this is still a free country. So what have you got to say?"

Athrun unclenched his fists and raised his head to look at his 'superior' straight in the eye. "Build friendships, you say. But, we're going out to war. There's not even a guarantee that every one of us will make it out alive."

Miguel returned his gaze and was silent for a moment. Afterwards, a scowl marred his features. "Have you been hanging out with my brother? I told you to stay away from him! Geez, no one ever listens to me!" He snorted. "Didn't I just tell you that you should also learn to watch out for each other? It's your job to protect, dimwit!"

"But, aren't we fighting for our homeland? Our loyalties lay on our homeland, not with our fellow soldiers."

"And I thought you were smart. Listen to your words, Athrun! You mean to say, your fellow soldiers aren't part of your homeland?" Miguel retorted.

After staring at each other down, Athrun finally broke eye contact and sighed resignedly. "I understand, sir," he muttered.

Miguel rolled his eyes, yet again. "I told you to drop the 'sir'. It makes me sound old!" He turned to the others. "So, any more questions?"

Dearka raised his hand. "Just one."

"Okay."

"What the hell have you been drinking?" Tan, blond, and handsome demanded incredulously. "You sound high!"

Yzak mockingly added, "He must be a spy sent by the E.A.! You're doing a bad job impersonating Miguel, shit-head."

"And I thought he was sober!" Rusty laughed, joining in.

Miguel huffed exasperatedly. "See! I start talking seriously and you do this. That's the last time you'll ever hear those bullshit crap from me!" He shot a glare at Yzak, Dearka and Rusty, when the three still wouldn't stop laughing. "Aw, quit it already! Get back in formation! We're doing some practice for that friggin' drill exhibition."

Athrun watched in amusement, as Miguel joked around with his other teammates. Somehow, his words were also true. But Athrun still couldn't relax entirely. Yzak's comment had set his nerves on edge.

-

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* * *

_**Author's Notes: **Now, we're moving along! Hehe. Okay, here's something. Can anyone of you guess what will be happening in future chapters? I think I've set up some mysteries here that will soon be unraveled. Just out of curiosity, have any of you spotted them yet? I'm also asking because I need to know if there is something unclear about the plot that needs to be remedied. I think I've set up plenty of clues for you to discover… er… I just hope that I'm not laying it a little too thick._

_Anyway, shameless plug. I updated SEED Monthly. Yes, after three months. Sorry. And, I posted a new fic. It's a serious, drama/angst multi-chaptered fic. It's Rey's biography, which is written by 'Shinn'. As always, it is non-yaoi. Please spare me the time and read it. I've put everything in that fic and it's one of the fics that I'm proud of. Thanks._

_So, leave me a review and let me take a peek into those guesses, okay? I might reply with a spoiler…_


	7. The Longest Night

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**Chapter Seven – The Longest Night**

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-

The first thing that Rusty did as soon as he reached their quarters was fall face first into his lumpy bed. Something was poking him on his chest but he couldn't care less. Miguel had pushed them to their limits that morning, and then it was followed by their usual harsh lessons and trainings in the afternoon. Suffice it to say, even the normally smiling Nicol was smiling less than usual and the normally fuming Yzak was fuming more than usual.

All of them were wiped out. Well, all of them except for Athrun. All four of them had opted to skip dinner for a much-needed rest, but Athrun just shrugged and said that he needed some fresh air. And speaking of fresh air…

Rusty sniffed the air and groaned. "P.U.! What the heck is that smell!" Weariness completely forgotten, he quickly stood up, pulled his hanky out his jeans pocket, and used it to cover his nose.

Instantly, the rest of the guys pinched their noses and fought the urge to barf.

"Jhit! In smelts nike thomding died it dere!" Dearka exclaimed. (_Translation: "Shit! It smells like something died in here!"_)

Yzak glared at him. "Way to state the obvious, genius!" he snapped sarcastically. "Gods, who the hell forgot to wash his goddamn socks today!"

Nicol, being the intelligent one, rushed to the open window and did the most practical thing to do – instead of, say, whining and bitching about it. He quickly stuck his head out and took a deep breath. "We should call maintenance, or something!" he suggested with his head still out of the window.

"This isn't a hotel," Rusty countered dryly. "And since all four of us aren't showing signs of being responsible for this nasty smell, maybe it's something of Athrun's!"

"But it's not like we got a whiff of it the moment we entered the room!" Yzak argued heatedly. "Let's face it! Someone farted! And whoever it is better confess now or else!"

Nicol wrinkled his nose. "Oh, that is just disgusting!"

"Ack! I can't stand it anymore!" Rusty declared as he ran towards the door. It seemed that all four of them shared the same sentiments and after much struggling and squeezing in the doorway (their efforts even more doubled because no one was bright enough to turn on the lights), they finally got out.

The hall lights were blinding in contrast to their dark room and after their eyes had adjusted to the brightness, the first thing that they noticed was the silence and deserted state of the corridors.

Nicol raised an eyebrow upon realizing that they were the only ones affected by the horrid stench. "Have you heard about the rooms being smell-proof, as well?"

"I swear, if someone's playing a prank on us again, I won't give a hoot about what military regulation bullshit says!" Dearka said with a snarl.

Rusty frowned. "Are you sure it's not just someone's socks?"

"Socks? Oh, that's one heck of an athlete's foot!" Yzak roared. Then, he frowned. "Wait a freaking moment…"

He was met with three curious stares.

"What the hell are we going to do if that stinks up our things as well!" Yzak howled.

He was met with three pairs of eyes rolling exasperatedly.

"I think we have more pressing matters to worry about…" Nicol mumbled slowly. "Like… what if there really was something that died in there?"

Dearka snorted. "Pft. That's ridiculous."

"Hey, what's this party about?" a new voice asked amiably. All four of them immediately riveted their attention to the new-comer. A young man their age was walking towards them from the direction of the stairs. A young man with black hair and blue eyes.

It was Henrik.

Yzak's eyes immediately narrowed suspiciously. "What's it to you?"

Henrik raised his hands in mock surrender and laughed. "Hey, no need to be so hostile! I meant nothing by it." He turned to Dearka and Rusty with a wry smile. "But it's a good thing the door wasn't stuck this time."

Dearka sneered. "Yeah, just great."

"Well, if you must know, our room smells really bad," Nicol, ever the polite one, informed him.

"Bad?"

Rusty nodded. "Bad, as in, it stinks."

"So bad that all four of you are planning to sleep in the hallways?"

"So bad that all four of us are opting to quit the military," Dearka corrected with a smirk.

Henrik stared hard at him, and then laughed. "You don't say!" He tapped a finger in his chin. "Why don't I go inside and check it out?"

"Well, isn't that very noble of you?" Yzak asked sarcastically. "What makes you think that you can survive that smell when all four of us couldn't?"

"The fact that I used to live next to a limburger-cheese factory," Henrik answered good-naturedly.

"Save your heroism in the battlefield." Yzak snorted.

"Where's your other teammate?" Henrik asked curiously, after noticing that there was only four of Miguel's squad. "Athrun Zala, right?"

"Who cares? Probably doing something teacher's-pet worthy," Yzak replied nastily. And then he turned to Dearka, ignoring Henrik completely. "I'm heading downstairs for some dinner. That smell woke me up."

"Same goes for me," Dearka, ever the 'loyal' buddy, seconded. Then, he and Yzak started heading towards the stairs.

Nicol sighed. "Sleep seemed so appealing a moment ago, but after that, dinner wouldn't be so bad." He turned to Henrik. "Thanks for volunteering for the job. But believe us; you wouldn't want to go in there."

Henrik approached the open door and when he was only a few inches from it, wrinkled his nose. He turned his attention back to Nicol. "I suppose you're right. Well, see you around!" With that he started walking further down the corridors.

"What about you, Rusty?" Nicol asked.

Rusty yawned tiredly. "As much as I would like to sleep, I don't think I could in a room that smells like a rotting carcass." He shrugged. "To the mess hall it is, then."

Nicol nodded and started walking as well. "I was planning to send an email to my father but I guess it would have to wait…" he muttered to himself.

"Wait. Shouldn't we lock the door or something?" Rusty pointed at their open room.

"I'm thinking we'd better let some fresh air in… But, I suppose the windows will suffice," Nicol agreed whole-heartedly. He pinched his nose and approached the door to lock it.

"I hope it will. Or else, we'd better find someplace else to crash," Rusty muttered.

-

-

_"I chose you for a specific reason!"_

Athrun sighed as his grip on the mobile phone tightened. The frustration was evident in his father's voice. "Father…" he began, choosing his words carefully, "I just think that maybe he's the right person to go to. I've been going through his credentials, and –"

"_ – And he doesn't have what it takes for this!"_

Being Yzak's subordinate would be easier than convincing a person such as Patrick Zala. "He's aptly connected to the subject, and if he, who's been with the military for two years now, doesn't have what it takes, then how come I do?"

_"Because I said so,"_ his father answered with a hint of a warning in his voice.

Athrun bit his lip, fighting the urge to talk back. Unlike the first call, his father did not seem to have any intentions of being diplomatic. "But when you first told me about this – when you first called me up – it was an offer, not an order."

A growl could be heard from the other line and Athrun fought the urge to gulp. His father was getting angry…if he hadn't already crossed that line. _"Well then, now I'm ordering you!"_

"What? Don't I have a say in this?" Athrun blurted out without thinking. When he finally realized what he said, he clapped a hand to his forehead in frustration.

_"No. Because you are a soldier now,"_ his father responded, strangely calm, with a hint of finality in his voice.

Athrun mentally congratulated himself for bringing two whole bottles of Tylenol with him. But with all the headaches that he's been having, he was quite sure that he would be needing more in just a few days. "I understand."

_"Good."_

And with that, his father had hung up.

"And a good night to you too, _Father_, "Athrun muttered sarcastically. Well, that was ZAFT Head Patrick Zala for you. No nonsense, direct-to-the-point and rude as hell. He rolled his eyes as he pocketed the mobile phone.

As he walked towards the destination he had in mind, Athrun's mind wandered to the area he labeled 'Uncooperative Roomies'. What lucky bastards. While he was 'strolling through the academy grounds for some fresh air' (yeah, right), the other four were most likely snoring and drooling in their respective beds. There they were, sleeping like the dead after a hard day's lesson and here he was, stuck ambling about like a washed-out zombie.

If it weren't for the coffee (30 percent coffee, 70 percent water) that he took, he was sure he would have collapsed from fatigue and exhaustion. Not only did he have to deal with Miguel's look-organized-quick schemes and the usual taxing lessons, drills and activities, but he had to deal with this as well!

Sure, he was a Coordinator, but being one didn't mean that 'Superman' was his middle name. For starters, he didn't have a middle name. But if he did have 'Superman' as a middle name, he was sure it would be followed with 'stuck-with-Kryptonite'. Yes, right now, he was Athrun 'Superman-stuck-with-Kryptonite' Zala.

Absurd.

That's what it was.

Athrun closed his eyes and sighed…

…and when he opened them again, what greeted him was an empty beer bottle heading straight for his noggin. But thanks to his Coordinator skills or his superb dodging ability (courtesy of many dodge ball fights with his best friend in Copernicus), he managed to gain the common sense to duck.

The bottle whipped past his head and landed on the soft grass behind him without breaking into tiny and, not to mention, -sharp- pieces. Athrun immediately took on a defensive stance and waited for the culprit to show himself.

"Who the heck (hic) is_h_ in there?" a slurred voice that he immediately recognized as Miguel's asked. Or it might have been Mikhail's… but that would have been improbable, especially since Mikhail didn't seem like the type to get drunk. Followed by that question was the appearance of tousled blond hair from behind the bushes.

Athrun relaxed, but didn't entirely let his guard down. A drunk Miguel was even more dangerous than a sober one. "It's Athrun, sir, I mean, Miguel."

"Ah… S_h_oldier Boy… Good thing you're here… I s_h_eem to be los_h_t. Care to bring me to my quarters_h_? But if not, I could always_h_ yell for my damned bother, oops_h_, my damned brother to get his_h_ ass_h_ here and pick me up." Miguel was swaying from his spot and Athrun mentally reprimanded himself for not checking Miguel's schedule. How the heck was he supposed to know that tonight was Miguel's 'boys-night-out'?

Athrun approached Miguel and fought the urge to just knock Miguel unconscious to make things easier. "I'll carry you to your quarters if you tell me where it is."

Miguel looked at him weirdly. "S_h_orry, buddy, but I don't lean that way…"

Athrun raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Pardon?"

"I like girls_h_… not guys_h_ who look like girls_h_…" Miguel answered.

A vein ticked in Athrun's temple. Did Miguel just imply that he was -gay-? And that he looked like a goddamn girl? "Good," he muttered through clenched teeth, "Because I have a fiancée. Now, move your ass along before I throttle you alive, okay?"

"Ha! My ass_h_ is the bes_h_t piece of ass_h_ around!" Miguel exclaimed defensively. "No one s_h_ays_h_ 'no' to it!"

Athrun rolled his eyes. He wanted so badly to just let Miguel rot in there, but his ethics, his blasted ethics, told him otherwise. Superiors were meant to be followed, not killed. They were meant to be respected, not kicked in the shins. He grabbed Miguel's left arm and swung it on his shoulders. After he found a comfortable enough position, he proceeded to drag Miguel towards his original destination while, at the same time, hoping that no one would see them in that quite suggestive position.

But if that were to happen, Athrun swore that Miguel would not live to see another sunrise.

_'God, I wish Mikhail would just come along already!' _he thought, frustrated. Not only so that he could dump Miguel's semi-conscious, un-sober body but also to get what he came here for in the first place. He knew his father would not approve of approaching Mikhail (he practically spat it in Athrun's face), but this was now his call. Athrun had the discretion to ask whoever he wanted to ask.

_"Because you're a soldier now."_

Athrun rolled his eyes. Since when did being a soldier account for not having any say in the matter?

"So, S_h_oldier Boy…whatcha doin' out here anyway? You could've told me if ya wanted to come with me and have s_h_ome fun!" Miguel exclaimed, driving Athrun out of his thoughts.

A quite stupid idea knocked on his brain. Athrun bit his lip uncertainly. Miguel wasn't in his right mind – why bother asking him? But asking him while he was sober would lead to many questions, what with Miguel being so pushy and all.

"Hey, Miguel, when you said that I would make the perfect soldier, why didn't you mean it as a compliment?" Athrun quickly asked before he changed his mind. As soon as the words left his mouth, however, he had the sudden urge to take it all back.

Miguel stared at him with unfocused eyes. "Huh? I s_h_aid that?"

Athrun felt like tearing his hair out. There he was, wondering about the comment as if it held the answers to the universe, and it seemed as if Miguel didn't even know what he was yapping about. He felt like tearing his hair out, but stopped himself just in time. Miguel wasn't even worth a strand of his hair getting split. Now, he -really- wanted to just dump Miguel in a bush somewhere.

But Miguel started babbling again. "Oh, that!" He laughed. "A perfect soldier is one who follows orders flawlessly and without question."

Athrun was puzzled. "And that's a bad thing?" he asked, frowning.

Miguel scoffed. "So when I tell you to jump off a building, you'll do it?"

"Well, if it was for my nation, I'd do that," Athrun answered promptly. Frankly, he did not know where this was going.

Miguel rolled his bloodshot eyes. "Oh, please! Grow a backbone, will you?" He snorted. "And what if I order you to break up with Lacus?"

Athrun looked uncomfortable. "Break up?" He raised an elegant eyebrow. "Why?"

"Well, at least you're starting to question me," Miguel muttered quite audibly.

Then, it hit Athrun. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously and dropped his hold on Miguel, letting the taller boy sway dangerously from his position. He crossed his arms and said flatly, "You're not really drunk, are you?"

"The hell are you talking about!" Miguel yelled indignantly. "I can barely stand as it is!"

Athrun rolled his eyes. "Your words aren't slurred," he pointed out dryly.

Miguel gave him a blank look, and then burst into laughter. "Oh, that! Well, I just wanted to try out being slurred for once, you know, with the sh's and shit. It was pretty convincing, wasn't it?" But before Athrun could tell him what exactly he thought about it, Miguel's eyes rolled back on his lids, and he fell unconscious on the grass. The alcohol had probably already reached his brain.

"Great!" Athrun muttered sarcastically. "Now I have to carry him to his room!"

Just as he was about to curse Miguel into oblivion, Lady Luck finally shined on him that day. Literally. A blinding light suddenly illuminated the area from which Athrun stood. He squinted and his hands automatically rose to shield his eyes from the light source.

"I knew I should've locked him in his room," came Mikhail's exasperated voice.

The moment Mikhail turned off the flashlight; Athrun saw little black spots dancing in front of his eyes. He cursed inwardly. _'What the hell is that goddamn search light for?' _he thought in irritation. Not that he could say that aloud anyway. He automatically raised his right hand in a salute.

Mikhail waved his hand at him dismissively as he approached his twin. With a scoff and a roll of his amber eyes, he gave his twin a swift kick. Miguel groaned and curled up mumbling something about his 'pookie' but otherwise did not wake up. The more mature half of the Ayman twins gave Athrun a little apologetic smile – which came out rather forced if Athrun thought about it. "Sorry for the inconvenience. I'll take it from here."

Athrun sent a quick thanks to his dear, departed mother for continuing to watch over him. But of course, unpredictable as the human mind is, recollections of his mother were followed by thoughts from his father. His warning tone, in particular.

"Do you need something?" Mikhail asked, breaking his line of thought.

After a moment's hesitation, Athrun cleared his throat and decided that the forward approach was the only way to go. He opened his mouth to tell Mikhail exactly what he needed to know, but the older boy beat him to it.

"I'm doing everything I can."

Athrun felt his brows joining together in a frown. "Who told you…?" he trailed off uncertainly.

Mikhail shot his snoring brother a disgusted – but at the same time, a rather proud – look before answering. "He's a more people-person, don't you think?"

What Athrun said: "Huh?"

What he really meant: _'I hate to be frank but, we're getting a little off-topic here._'

Mikhail sighed. "Look, just forget what I said."

"Um… the first one or the last?"

Another sigh. "The last. Just… march your ass off here before I give in to the urge to spill my deepest, darkest secrets." Then, he grabbed his brother's shoulders and lifted him from the ground. As he and Miguel wobbled towards the direction of their quarters, Athrun could hear Mikhail muttering quite audibly, _"Fuck. I should've known that nothing un-spiked with alcohol ever comes from this bastard…"_

Athrun stared at the twin's retreating backs – amusement clearly written on his face. After a few more moments of standing very still and looking like an idiot, he decided it was about time he put an end to that exhausting day.

As soon as the familiar white, block building came into view, he automatically looked up at the windows to their room. The lights were still turned on, meaning the bastards were still awake. It also looked like Nicol was still working, judging from the flickering computer light on the left-most window.

Well at least, Athrun thought, he wasn't the only workaholic one in the team.

Then, Athrun remembered something that made him stop in his tracks. Or maybe it was because 'workaholic' sounded close to 'alcoholic'

Spiked… with alcohol?

Athrun cursed inwardly as soon as realization hit him square in the gut. If Mikhail's last comment was true… _'Did he even have the slightest idea about what I tried to tell him?'_

He slapped his forehead in frustration and it took every ounce of his self-control to prevent himself from running straight into the brick wall to pound his already aching head senseless.

For the first time since the history of never, Athrun Zala felt stupid.

-

-

But contrary to what Athrun thought, Mikhail's slightly alcohol-muddled brain was still working perfectly fine. He was aware of everything that sprouted from his mouth. He had his suspicions… but no one really confirmed it for him.

And why the heck would they? They knew absolutely zilch about each other. Mikhail did not make a habit of 'bonding' with his subordinates, as Miguel eloquently put it. And because of that, it seemed as if his own beliefs were being thrown in his face.

Unlike some people, Mikhail knew when to concede defeat… and when to admit that he was wrong. And he was. For this situation, anyway.

It was still a little unclear, but if Athrun Zala was getting orders from Patrick Zala himself (_yes,_ he was eavesdropping. So sue him), it had to be something big. Something big and just plain -bad-. And it was all because he was too busy distancing himself from the new batch of brats that he had to teach about the finer points of getting killed in the service of their country.

Beside him, Miguel snored. If Mikhail didn't know better, he could've sworn his twin brother was gloating. _'Well, what do you know? The idiot's right!'_ he thought sardonically.

Talk about ironic.

Talk about eating your own words.

Talk about being surpassed by someone with an I.Q. a gazillion points lower than you.

Mikhail sighed. _'Talk about having a smart brother,'_ he thought ruefully and rather fondly.

But no matter how proud he was of his little brother, it still didn't change the fact that for the first time since the history of never, Mikhail Ayman felt stupid.

-

-

Athrun was still busy inwardly berating himself as he was making his way to their room when he was suddenly and violently attacked from behind. He was immediately pushed against the wall, with his face almost getting scrunched up. Everything happened so fast that he didn't even get the chance to get a good look at his assailant. He tried to wriggle free, but he was effectively pinned up against the wall.

His mind was racing, his breath was hitching up, and his heart was beating erratically.

What if his mission had been leaked out somehow?

Would he get killed?

In the middle of a deserted, brightly lit residential hall?

Would he finally see his mommy?

What would his father say?

What about Lacus?

Would their engagement be cancelled and would she be a widow long-before their wedding day?

He didn't even get the chance to ride the custom red mobile suit that had been plaguing his dreams for years! He didn't even get the chance to see his best friend again and ask him why the hell he didn't go up to the PLANTs like he promised!

Oh, woe is him!

Athrun was already picturing his funeral when the familiar condescending voice of Yzak Joule broke through his dramatic thoughts.

"What the heck are you looking so friggin' suicidal for?"

Athrun's eyes widened in disbelief – at Yzak's act of brutality and at his own stupidity. "Yzak?"

Yzak laughed sadistically. "Oh, don't tell me you thought I was a killer?" And from behind where Yzak's voice came from sprouted three more howls of laughter – well, only two actually since Athrun was aware that Nicol was too polite to 'howl'.

"The exhaustion's getting to your head, Athrun!" Rusty pointed out in between guffaws.

Dearka was splitting his sides at his teammate's expense. "We -tried- to stop Yzak but the chance was too precious to pass up!"

'_The chance to humiliate me!' _Athrun thought darkly. _'Tried to stop? Dearka? Yeah, right._' The blond Coordinator always tolerated Yzak's antics. The day Dearka opposes against Yzak would be the day that Athrun defects from ZAFT. He tried to push Yzak off his back, but to no avail. "Get off my back!"

"Not until you confess that it was your socks that were stinkin' up the place!" Yzak retorted with a snarl.

"What in the blue hell are you talking about?"

"We were forced to evacuate our room because the smell was just too much for us to bear," Nicol answered. "Come on, Yzak. We know it wasn't Athrun's socks."

Yzak grunted in reply and finally let go of Athrun's back. Athrun turned around and after sending a death glare to his best frenemy's direction, marched up to their room. The other four were following him, still complaining about anything and everything under the sun.

"Did you leave the lights open?" Athrun asked.

Rusty's answer made his blood run cold. "No. We were too busy saving our sense of smell to bother. Why?"

"No reason," Athrun answered in what he hoped was in a nonchalant way. Nevertheless, he quickened his pace. After a few more moments, they were now standing in front of the door to their room – the other four giving it a wary look.

"Okay, who's not chicken enough to open it?" Dearka asked jokingly.

Before anyone could say anything (or before anyone could warn him), Athrun punched in the un-lock code in the panel. The door opened and…

The room was exactly as they left it – messy and with the lights turned off.

Athrun sighed and entered the room. After a quick look around, he finally decided it was high time he put an end to this wonderful, wonderful day. He cast a gaze to his teammates standing outside the room. "The smell's gone."

Rusty took a hesitant first step and sniffed around. His face immediately brightened up. "Finally, I can sleep!"

After a few moments, Dearka and Yzak were still plotting about the things they would do to the person who played the prank on them while Nicol was sitting in front of his computer, composing a letter of complaint to the authorities. Rusty was already snoring away in his bed.

Athrun wanted to turn the room upside down to find what he was looking for but he was too tired to even lift a finger. He couldn't do it in the presence of his teammates, of course. That would only arouse their suspicions. With a final sigh, he finally decided to hit the sack.

Tomorrow was a big day for him.

-

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_**Author's Notes: **After almost two months of silence (for this fic, anyway), I finally finished Chapter Seven! So now you finally see why it was so hard to write! There's plot development happening every which way!_

_I hope this chapter wasn't too overwhelming. From the moment I wrote Chapter One of this fic, the story was already plotted out and the characters' roles were already established in my mind. Everything was planned. I guess I just blew Henrik's cover, huh:D_

_Now, I need help from you. I need to know what sorts of conclusions or predictions you have formulated given the innumerable hints dropped. I need to know what you're thinking about because it will tell me if I'm making sense or not._

_If you have questions, please put it in your review and I will be more than glad to answer them._

_---_

_**THANK YOU VERY MUCH**!_

_To the readers of this fic! And to the reviewers, in particular: **GodNo127**, **Maryam Khanoom**, **koyuki-san**, **soulcollector**, **Allie Night**, **Attharun**, **White Shadow**, **Warp Ligia Obscura**, **Lil' Kunoichi**, and **SmallNicole**. To **ritachi**, for putting me in your fanfic recommendations list in the Writer's Corner forum! Lastly, to the person who makes sure that this fic isn't abandoned, my beta-reader (and best friend), **Lia lostsmile**!_


	8. Bets and Spying All Around

_**Disclaimer: **I checked my back account this morning to see if I've received the royalties for Gundam SEED. But then I realized I didn't have a bank account._

_-_

_**Author's Notes: **Thank you very much for all the constructive criticisms. I appreciated all of them, and I hope I incorporated all of those helpful comments into this chapter. You guys are the best! And if I may ask, please do the same for this chapter? Don't hesitate to point out anything that you wish should be pointed out._

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**Chapter Eight – Bets and Spying All Around**

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To: yuri-amarfi (at) zaft (dot) org

From: the-pianist (at) theplants (dot) com

Subject: Hey, Dad!

_-_

_Hey, Dad!_

_Sorry if I haven't been mailing that often; Miguel's really intent on showing our best on the field exhibition. It is kind of ironic, considering that he never put that much effort into it before. But don't worry, I'm pretty sure you won't be disappointed._

_Well, we still haven't found out what caused the stink several nights ago. I think it was just a prank pulled by the other squadrons, but I don't want to voice that out loud. Yzak, Dearka and Rusty would be screaming for retribution. Honestly, I think I'm the only one who's rational-minded here. Athrun has been acting weird lately, but I think that's just out of nerves. He's pretty serious about becoming a soldier._

_How's mom, by the way? I know that she's still upset about my decision to join the military. I had hoped that she would've gotten over it by now. You know how I feel, right? What with you being in the military as well. I just couldn't sit still knowing that people my age are out there fighting to protect the PLANTs._

_You seem busy with that secret project of yours, so I wouldn't bother you with replying soon. I'll try to call mom later or maybe I'll just send her a letter if calls are impossible._

_Take care._

_- Nicol_

-

-

Nicol re-read his letter and, satisfied that it said everything he wanted to say, pressed the 'send' button on the upper-part of the message window. His father had been very busy with his project for several days and they couldn't schedule even a video-conference. Of course, Nicol kept in touch with his mom, but their conversations left him guiltier than usual. His mom had not approved of him joining the military – for quite obvious reasons. The obvious reasons including the high casualty rate in the military career.

He turned off his laptop. Then seeing as nobody was in the room, yawned very widely as he stretched his arm and back muscles. He briefly wondered when they would be able to take even a few days leave. He could do well with a massage or two.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor bounced off the four walls of their dormitory as Nicol stood up. He surveyed the room and clucked his tongue reprovingly when he saw just how -lived in- it looked. Honestly. Just because they were boys didn't mean that their room had to look like a garbage dump.

Yzak's bed was unmade, with his blanket half-lying on the floor and the pillows haphazardly piled one on top of another in the farthest corner. A few manuals were scattered on top of his bedspread and Nicol even noticed a sachet that looked suspiciously like the shampoo his mother used. His eyes fell on the bed beside it: Dearka's. It was even more chaotic than Yzak's, with the blanket -and- pillows on the floor. Countless magazines decorated the bed sheet with a half-hidden/ bottle of hair gel and a mirror. Rusty's was just as messy, and Nicol winced in disgust when he saw a funny-looking stain on one of the pillows.

_'Yuck. Drool,'_ he thought, repulsed.

Even Athrun's normally clean side of the room was missing something. Something like, oh I don't know, maybe the clean part?

Nicol fought the urge to kick a stray water bottle that had rolled near his feet, and instead sighed loudly in exasperation. Not only did he have to be the mediator in the group, but did he also have to be the one who had to remind them that their room was not a pig sty?

He picked up the water bottle and carelessly threw it at Rusty's bed where it bounced on the soft mattress. He made his way to the door, letting out sighs every now and then. He had a bone to pick with his teammates.

Being a conscience was hard.

-

-

Yzak, having noticed 'mother-hen's' absence in the lunch table, took the opportunity to ruffle Athrun's chicken feathers. But the brat wasn't rising up to the bait! Every time Yzak threw a particularly galling comment at him, Athrun just nodded and had a look on his face that plainly said, 'Is that the best you can do?'

Rusty and Dearka were watching the scene with interest. Lunch, after all, tasted better when it was accompanied with live entertainment. Aside from the fact that they had a bet running. The bet being who would snap first.

Yzak mentally (but it was also obvious to every one) seethed as Athrun picked at his food with a bored expression on his face. He was going to get a rise out of Athrun if it was the last thing he did! God knew how much he needed that kind of distraction, what with the exams and drill exhibition just around the corner.

His lips curled in a perfectly-straight-teeth-baring grin. "I don't really give a damn if you aced that pop quiz in Military Tactics this morning. God knows how much you need it, seeing as your biggest accomplishment is having pop-idol Lacus Clyne as a fiancée!"

Athrun scoffed. "Says the guy whose biggest achievement to date is having an ancestor who contributed to the first law of thermodynamics!"

"ASSHOLE!" Yzak saw red. Well, the fact that ZAFT uniforms were red meant that he always saw red, but this time, the phrase meant that his anger clouded his better judgment. Not that it was literally better than his normal judgment, mind you.

He stood up, and punched Athrun.

But Athrun, not having quite grasped the concept of 'getting one's ass kicked', dodged it effortlessly. It was a good thing that Yzak had quick reflexes as well; otherwise, he would have lost his center of gravity entirely and landed face first into steak. He growled and sat back down on his chair, glaring at Athrun's passive face.

The other cadets were far too used to it by now to care. At first it had been fun to watch, someone had actually decided to tally up scores. But after a few lunch breaks (and sometimes, dinner breaks, as well), they decided that Athrun was such a stick-in-the-mud that it was next-to-impossible to make him initiate a fight.

"Okay, Rusty! Pay up!" Dearka yelled, pumping his fist in the air.

Rusty scowled. "Damn! I thought Athrun was going to finally live a little and start the fight!"

Athrun shot him a withered look. "I'd appreciate it if you stop betting on us."

"Well, I'd appreciate it more if you stop making me lose money," Rusty retorted as he furiously stabbed a potato wedge on his plate.

Yzak snorted, having calmed down after being given an opportunity to curse Athrun. "This isn't over yet, Zala."

"Sure."

Yzak's eyebrow twitched – as well as his clenched fist, but Dearka nudged him painfully under the ribs which made him the subject of his best friend's glare. "What?" Yzak snarled.

"I want some real food. Not the pitiful excuse that they pass here as meals," Dearka said, waving the wad of cash that Rusty had handed him a while back. "Let's go buy some burger and fries. I know just the person who'll give us some passes outside."

Yzak's furious expression was replaced with a slightly-happy one at the thought of junk food.

"Miguel," they said in unison.

If it was possible, Yzak's ire was passed on to Rusty. "Aw… crap! That's so unfair! I've been pining for some actual food ever since I entered this hell-hole!" he yelled after Yzak's and Dearka's retreating backs. The two, of course, ignored him.

Athrun sighed. "You know that's forbidden. As soldiers, we have to watch the food we take in. It's our health, after all."

"Oh, shut up," Rusty grumbled. "The thought of my glowing health doesn't make it any consoling."

Athrun nodded solemnly, thinking about mint chocolate chip ice-cream. "I know."

-

-

Inside the empty dormitory of Delta-One, Nicol's laptop suddenly whirred to life and couple of message windows opened, along with what appeared to be a database of sorts. After a few moments, the opened programs closed and it shut down once again. Not a thing indicated that something completely out of the ordinary had happened.

On a bench just across the window of the dormitory, sat Henrik Fousche with a PDA handheld on one hand, a telescope on the other, and a sly smile on his face.

-

-

"I'm so tired… I have no feeling from the hair down!" Dearka griped as he dragged his aching feet towards his bed. He muttered several curse words in various languages as he noticed the various paraphernalia strewn carelessly on his bed. He grabbed the ends of his bed sheet and violently yanked it off the bed, with his magazines, hair gel, mirror flying in the air and landing on the floor. By a stroke of luck, the mirror did not break. The bed sheet fluttered back into the bed and with a grunt of satisfaction, Dearka lied back down.

Yzak carelessly brushed aside the manuals and it landed on the space between his bed and Dearka's, joining the pile of magazines. Strangely, his eyes widened when he noticed the sachet on his bed and immediately reached for his pink covered basket under his bed and threw it in.

Rusty moaned melodramatically. "This is just like… like… like being in the army!" Just like Dearka and Yzak, his things were relocated to the floor.

Four sets of eyes rolled in response.

Nicol's left eye twitched as he saw the room getting dirtier by the minute. The lazy bums had managed to elude him again. He had broached the topic just before their weapons training, but Knife Fred came to his friends' rescue and started the lesson. Tonight though, he, thankfully (for his other teammates, anyway), was also too tired to give a damn. He grabbed his towel and pajama's and made a beeline for the bathroom. Before he closed the door, Athrun looked up from whatever it was that he was looking at in his laptop and smiled apologetically at Nicol.

"Nicol, would you mind if I borrow your computer? Mine is acting up," he explained, gently hitting the offending piece of technological marvel (note the sarcasm) for emphasis.

Nicol grinned. "Sure. Don't worry about it. I already mailed my father."

For some reason, Athrun frowned.

"Is something wrong?" Nicol asked curiously.

Athrun seemed to snap out of his daze and stood up to get Nicol's laptop on the desk near the window. He flashed another apologetic smile. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just remembered something. Don't worry about it."

"If you say so." Nicol shrugged and closed the door behind him.

Athrun sat in front of the computer and began working in earnest. His other three companions were all lying on their beds, and couldn't see what it was that their resident instructor's pet was doing. After a few more moments of keyboard-clacking sounds from Athrun, Yzak threw a sock at him.

"Would you mind keeping it down?"

Athrun paused typing to pick up the balled-up sock. He threw it back at Yzak and resumed typing as if nothing happened. "No."

Yzak glared at him. Big surprise.

"What the heck are you doing, anyway? As far as I know, we don't have any assignments due for tomorrow," Dearka asked, getting curious as well.

"I'm composing a poem for Miguel. Hopefully it will flatter him enough to cancel tomorrow's field training," Athrun answered sarcastically. "I'm mailing my father, okay?"

"You mean Lacus," Yzak sneered.

Dearka chortled. "I bet Rusty would just love to read Lacus' reply."

"I will not!" Rusty protested indignantly, throwing the water bottle. "I told you over and over, I don't like Lacus Clyne. It's my girlfriend who does!" He paused thoughtfully. "Or rather, -did-."

An awkward silence followed. It was the first time Rusty mentioned his girlfriend ever since their first day in the academy. Finally, Yzak growled. "Damn Naturals," he muttered under his breath.

Rusty heard him and shot Yzak a withered look. "Stop being so racist."

Dearka frowned. "You mean… you don't bear a grudge towards them?"

"Hey, it was only a bunch of people who blasted Junius Seven to smithereens, not the whole lot of them."

"Yeah, but…" Yzak shot a look at Dearka.

Dearka obviously understood what the look meant because he cleared his throat and spoke up in an uncertain voice. "Didn't your girlfriend… er… die on Junius Seven?" he asked lamely.

Rusty blinked.

Dearka and Yzak looked at him with slightly worried expressions. Even Athrun had stopped from his precious typing. The tension was thicker than a dozen wooden planks stuck together.

After a moment's silence, Rusty laughed.

'_The poor guy's so heartbroken, he's gone mad,'_ the three un-laughing occupants of the room thought as one.

Rusty, seeing the pitying looks his 'friends' were giving him, finally had the mind to shut up. "Er… sorry about that." He paused anti-climactically. "She didn't die." Then, he grinned carelessly. "We broke up because our genes didn't match. I was pretty devastated at first because we were together for four years," he explained sheepishly. "I didn't mention anything about her because I was still pretty pissed off at her."

"So… you joined the military because you got -dumped-?" Yzak asked incredulously.

Rusty rolled his eyes. "Pft. No. I joined because I wanted to torture myself," he answered sardonically, but his ears were going a bit pink. "I joined for the same reasons that you joined, you gossiping morons! What are you, gay or something? Only girls would talk behind someone's back!" he roared in laughter.

Athrun, sensing the fast-deteriorating conversation and losing whatever respect he had for Rusty in less than two seconds, decided to get back to whatever it was that he was doing. Of course, Yzak and Dearka did not take too well with being called 'gay' so they ganged up on the insufferable red-head and threw whatever their hands got a hold of at Rusty's rusty head.

"Stop! I was only kidding!"

"And I thought you belonged to the Angst Club (with Athrun as club president)!"

"We wouldn't have had to -presume- (not gossip) if you had told us from the start that your girlfriend dumped you!"

"She didn't -dump- me! It was a mutual agreement!"

"Mutual, my ass!"

"I hope I see the day you get engaged to someone you don't like, Yzak! I hope the only thing she'd be good for is her ability to actually reproduce brats to preserve your bloodline!"

And Rusty was further burrowed in feet deep trash.

Nicol finally went out of the bathroom dressed in his rocket-ship pajamas (snicker), hair wet from the shower. "Hey, what'd I miss?" He started moving towards Athrun. "Are you done, Athrun?"

'_Where is it? Faster!' _Athrun thought, urging the machine to just spit out the information he wanted already. Nicol was moving towards him… Then, a database suddenly flashed in the screen. His eyes widened at the title.

'_Mobile Suit Development Program'_

He quickly sent the file to his own laptop, closed the window and erased the log…

…Just as Nicol looked at the monitor from behind Athrun.

'_Phew.' _Athrun casually stood up. "Thanks, Nicol."

"Sure, don't mention it."

He made his way towards the door.

"Hey, where the hell are you going?" Yzak demanded, shooting suspicious glares at Athrun. The rest turned to look at him curiously.

Athrun forced a smile on his face. He knew he was going to regret his made-up excuse dearly. But it was the only thing the he could think of! He swallowed hard. "I forgot to give Lacus a call. She's really worried. Don't worry, I have my keys." He hurriedly exited the room to avoid further questions, his normally pale face blushing red.

Yzak snorted as he went back to composing a letter for his mom. "What a sissy."

-

-

Athrun got off the elevator and exited the building through the fire escape to avoid unneeded questions from the roaming guard. Finally reaching a secluded spot from beneath the woods behind the residence hall, he whipped out his satellite phone and dialed a familiar number.

The phone rang twice before someone finally picked it up halfway through the third ring.

"Report."

Athrun had to bite his lip to keep from yelping in surprise. He just couldn't get used to being treated like some sort of common foot soldier by his own father. Who could, for that matter? No preambles and certainly no 'hi-hello-how-are-you-fine-thank-you' for Patrick Zala.

He mentally sighed. But when he spoke up, his voice was firm. "I found the files that he was searching for."

There was a pause on the other line. Athrun wondered briefly if it meant something bad, like, perhaps if he had screwed up somehow?

His father spoke again, and this time, Athrun wanted so badly to believe that his father was the same as the way he had been when he his mother was still alive.

"Good work, son. See you in two days."

-

-

It was hard to tell them apart.

_"Hey, bro! Want to go for a drink?"_

_"Screw you. I almost got drunk last time."_

Well, until one of them opens his mouth, anyway.

_"Pft. That's the point, old man."_

_"No way. I'm going to sleep. Anyway, you better save your money because the day after tomorrow, it belongs to me."_

_"Ah, so we still haven't forgotten about our little bet, huh? Funny, that's -exactly- what I think."_

_"Oh, are you psychic, then?"_

And they continued bickering, as if they were children still. Mikhail, no matter how mature he acted, was as much of a brat as Miguel was. They were twins, after all.

It was the last time Mikhail would decline an invitation from his twin brother.

Henrik smiled as he lowered his telescope.

He would make sure of that.

His eyes skillfully roamed the area, checking for any unwanted presence. Then, he leapt from his hiding place. Unfortunately, somewhere along his descent, he miscalculated and his landing was anything but graceful. Luckily for him, the soft grass cushioned his fall and he had not alerted the subjects with his presence.

He scowled at no one in particular. Sometimes, being a Natural wasn't all that it was cut out to be.

-

-

Back inside the room, Nicol's eyebrows scrunched up in the middle of his forehead. He was worried about the way his friend was acting. "You know, Athrun's acting pretty weird."

Yzak snorted, not bothering to look up. This time, he was the one typing on his laptop. "So, what else is new?"

Dearka looked up from his nightly rituals (i.e. looking at himself in the mirror before he went to sleep) and smirked at Rusty. "He's just scared he'll get dumped like -Red- here."

'Red' obviously resented that. "Argh. It's RUSTY for the twenty seven thousand six hundred thirteenth time, you ass!"

-

-

Athrun stiffened as soon as he saw the familiar form of Henrik Fousche leaning casually beside the elevator – probably waiting for the car to arrive. The other boy gave a small, friendly wave and flashed him a teeth-baring grin as soon as Athrun was within smiling-distance.

"Good evening, Zala," Henrik greeted.

With his hand inside his pocket, Athrun grasped the very high-tech timed stink bomb that he found in their room several smelly nights ago. He forced a genial tone on his normally passive voice. "Good evening."

"Out for a nocturnal stroll?" Henrik smiled.

Athrun gave a non-committal shrug. "I couldn't sleep."

"I see."

A soft tinkle announced the arrival of the elevator car and the door slid open, admitting them. They pressed the buttons to their floor destinations and for the rest of their ascent, only the sound of the annoying elevator music sliced through the silence. Then, they finally reached the Charlie Company's floor.

Henrik exited the elevator and waved at him again. "Well, see you around, Zala." Then he started walking down the corridor.

Athrun continued watching his retreating back through the still open elevator – probably waiting for non-existent passengers. Suddenly, Henrik turned around and smirked arrogantly at him. "Good luck," he said in a mocking voice – very different from his usual amiable tone.

His mind screamed that it was unreasonable, but all the same, Athrun felt a shiver run down his spine as he pushed the 'close' button shakily. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

-

-

The next morning, Yzak was not the least bit surprised to see Athrun already up and awake even before the rest of the world wiped the drool from their faces. He was still too sleepy to bother picking a fight and so, opted to let the others get on with their showers first.

And before they knew it, it was time to head down to the mess hall for breakfast. All five of them were about to do exactly that when Athrun suddenly made a show of running back to their room saying something about a forgotten sock.

Yzak rolled his eyes. The other boy was acting way beyond his normal weirdness and it was pissing him off, to put it bluntly. Athrun was always running off somewhere, not participating in their weekly banters, it was like they had a contagious disease or something.

"A sock? That is just lame," Yzak scoffed. "Go ahead. I'll knock some sense into his head."

The three of them exchanged _'uh-oh'_ looks. Actually, it was only Nicol who flashed that look to the other two. Dearka and Rusty were already thinking of a bet.

Nicol, being the only voice of reason, sighed. "Come on, Yzak," he said exasperatedly. "This early in the morning?"

"Back off, mother hen." Yzak snarled as he redirected his steps back to their room.

Behind him, Yzak could hear Rusty saying something to Nicol. Something along the lines of, _"Don't worry about them, Nicol. You should get used to them by now. What do you say to a bet between the three of us, eh?"_

Yzak fought the urge to stomp back in front of Rusty and Dearka and bump their heads together. But no. Athrun was the one who needed some sense knocked into his brain more.

He found Athrun bent over on his laptop. He slammed the door shut and leaned on it.

"What the fuck's wrong with you?" he demanded without preambles.

Athrun let out an audible sigh and turned off his laptop. Then he stood up and regarded Yzak with a leveling stare. "Well, aside from you getting in my case; nothing."

Strangely enough, Yzak brushed the not-so-subtle jibe aside and raised a mocking eyebrow. "You came back for your socks? What kind of a stupid excuse was that?"

"Look, mind your own business, okay?" Athrun asked wearily.

"Oh, for the love of… Stop acting like you're the only angst-ridden teenager in this whole goddamn building!" Yzak finally exploded. "You act as if you're doing us a huge favor every friggin' time you grace us with your frickin' presence!"

"Think whatever you want to think!" Athrun snapped. "I have my own problems to deal with! So back off!" He glared at Yzak. "Go back to worrying about your mom or something and stop butting your head in my business!"

Both of them blinked.

It was the first time in days that Athrun ever said something so… immature. Too bad Rusty wasn't there to witness it. He could've finally won the bet.

Finally, Yzak scoffed haughtily. Then, he opened the door. "I don't know what's going in that freak mind of yours. But stop thinking so highly of yourself. Between the two of us, I'm the arrogant one. Not you."

Then, he slammed it closed, leaving Athrun behind.

Athrun snorted. "You know, I liked him better when he didn't make any sense," he muttered to no one. Needless to say, that particular moment belonged to those that Yzak and he had mutually agreed that 'never happened'.

-

-

Athrun had decided long ago that Henrik Fousche was not a person to be trusted. There was just something about him that didn't fit well with the other cadets. Maybe because he looked too smug for his own good or maybe because he had an uncanny ability to stick his nose where it didn't belong or maybe it was his eerie tendencies to rescue Athrun and his, dare he say it, 'friends'…whenever they were in a weird (or stinky) situation.

And last night, he discovered a very incriminating piece of evidence hidden in Nicol's computer. It seemed that there was a brief connection between his computer and Rep. Amarfi's computer and someone had used it to hack into Rep. Amarfi's database. The hacking program used was highly advanced, and it almost didn't leave a trace.

Almost.

_'So, he must have used the stink-bomb to make sure that the room was empty to install the link to Nicol's computer, and then he must have waited for Nicol to mail his father…'_ Athrun fought the urge to pull his hair (or, preferably Yzak's hair) in frustration. The _espion_ had managed to outsmart him again.

And if Henrik was the one behind the whole juvenile 'prank'…

How in the blue hell was he supposed to catch Henrik, anyway?

_'I can't do it alone!'_ he thought, aggravated. _'I have to ask for Mikhail's help. Or at least some tips. Or maybe a copy of _The Complete Idiot's Guide to Abduction. _Or _Interrogation for Dummies_.'_ Whatever his father was asking him was just next-to-impossible.

Anyway, Mikhail seemed to be aware that something was up that night… either that, or he had one too many drinks. Either way, that was another mystery to be solved… how the heck did Mikhail know about it anyway? Gods, he was starting to feel a little bit like the teenage version of Sherlock Holmes…

"I never thought I'd say this, but, Soldier Boy, are you paying any friggin' attention?"

It took Athrun several seconds to realize that the question was directed to him. He blinked at he was surprised to see Mikhail's scowling face. He blinked again. No, it wasn't Mikhail. Mikhail didn't call him 'Soldier Boy.' And Mikhail wasn't his drill instructor.

"I'm sorry. I was thinking of something else," Athrun apologized.

"Well, do your thinking somewhere else. I'm trying to teach you something here!" Miguel growled. After giving Athrun his first-ever reprimand, Miguel went back to shouting commands at the top of his lungs.

Beside him, Athrun heard three familiar groans.

"You know, I think I liked you better when you were lazy," Rusty grumbled.

Yzak grunted his agreement.

"Look you sissies, we had our agreement. You perfect the routine and you're home free. You've got me to thank for even being able to breathe despite your workload. If I hadn't given you all those free time, do you think you'll be able to ace all those exams?" Miguel scoffed. "Show some gratitude, you ungrateful assholes!"

Dearka smirked as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Yeah, yeah. Do you have to shove that in our faces every freakin' time?"

Miguel's response was a smirk similar to the one on Dearka's face. "Yes. You know I love to gloat." After being answered by more groans, he put on his serious face and yelled, "ATTENTION!"

After one full hour of drill instruction – the serious kind, anyway – Athrun concluded that he liked Miguel better when he was lazy, too.

"Come on you slackers! In case you haven't noticed, tomorrow's our big day!"

The field exhibition.

Oh crap.

-

* * *

-

_**Author's Notes: **Okay, are you guys still confused? Don't worry, everything will soon fall into place. If it's still mind-boggling, please kindly point it out. Thanks. To those who muttered, "I thought so!" while reading this chapter, kudos to you for finding your way through the labyrinth. And I'd very much like to hear your 'predictions' for Henrik and Mikhail._

_**THANK YOU **for everyone who read this story. To those who reviewed: **koyuki-san**, **azna-azure**, **Centurious**, **Maryam Khanoom**, **White Shadow**, **Kiheada**, **huamulan03**, **ritachi**, **Meira Kurosaki**, **Princess Ashes**, **Allie Night**, **Lil' Kunoichi**, **Taijiya**, and **Tsukiko Hitsugaya**._

_The 'psychic part' is dedicated to my beta-reader, **Lia lostsmile**, the Miguel to my Mikhail._

_-_

_**Tidbits:**_

_**James Prescott Joule **(1818-1889) is a British physicist best known for his research in electricity and thermodynamics._

_**espion **– French for 'spy'; Henrik's last name 'Fousche' is from Fouché. **Joseph Fouché **is a French statesman known as the father of modern political espionage._


	9. The Big Fight Scene

-

**Chapter Nine – The Big Fight Scene**

-

* * *

-

_Henrik Fousche is a spy._

That single line kept on echoing in Athrun's head. It wasn't proved yet, but hell if it wasn't true!

The first time Patrick Zala revealed that itty-bitty factoid to Athrun, his eyebrows immediately climbed up to his hairline – for the reason that he thought his father was joking. But he quickly squashed the thought. Because Yzak Joule would sooner admit that he was gay than for Patrick Zala to share a joke (which he assumed would not be happening any time soon).

The next thought that occurred to him was why in the blue hell was his father telling him that? Of course, he just had to ask and his father just had to give him the most unexpected answer in the book: because he wanted Athrun's skills. No, not needed, -wanted-. What was he anyway – some kind of equipment?

Now, any sane politician would have scoffed at the ridiculousness of Patrick Zala's plans. Why use his fifteen year old son? And a son that hasn't even grasped the concept of military discipline, no less.

But military discipline wouldn't be needed for the job that Patrick had in mind. No, what he needed was for it to be executed cleanly and quietly. No need for the citizens or his colleagues to be aware of it; it will only cause panic. Patrick had been tipped by one of his contacts that the EA would be sending a spy to the academy.

Henrik Fousche.

Athrun had been instructed to watch the spy's actions first, to determine what it was that Henrik wanted and when they had figured it out, he would 'deal with the Natural bastard', as his father so eloquently put it. Of course Athrun had tried to talk his father out of it; there were too many risks involved. Athrun had tried to persuade his father to enlist Mikhail Ayman's help, but his father would have none of it. It was a job for Athrun and the way Athrun saw it, a test of some sort. A test that he had to pass to gain not his father's, but National Defense Committee Chairman Zala's favor. And once Patrick Zala had made his mind, nothing short of an Armageddon could make him change it.

And now, he was stuck with that knowledge, the thought bearing down on his shoulders. Henrik wanted something… and he didn't know what to do about it. What was he supposed to do about it anyway? His father clearly stressed the secrecy of this 'operation'…

"Soldier Boy! Are you paying any attention?" Miguel asked irritably. "Your shoes are caked with dirt!"

Athrun mentally berated himself for losing himself in his thoughts – for the nth time that morning – and looked at his shoes. There was a speck of dirt on the otherwise polished surface of his left shoe – not exactly "caked with dirt", in his opinion. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. He had much, much important things to worry about other than dirty shoes.

Fortunately, he was saved from having to give an apt response because Miguel had moved on to the others. "You! Red! Did you even iron your uniform?"

Rusty bristled with either the "Red" nickname or the "ironing" comment. "This was how I got this damned uniform from the cleaners!" He grabbed the creased portion of his uniform, which turned out to be a small fold on the front. "Fuck! I doubt anyone will even see this!"

"What about you, Yzak?" Miguel roared.

Yzak glared at him. "What about me?"

"Fix that scowl on your face. That's too fierce…even for the tiger-look," Miguel answered, before moving on to Dearka. "You, Dearka! Brush your hair, for comb's sake!"

Dearka run a hand through his hair and smirked. "Ah… You of all people should understand why it looks this way, Miguel."

Miguel rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the identical cocky smirk from forming in his face. Then, he turned to his last victim. "And now you, Nicol." He gave Nicol a critical head-to-toe look. "Nothing's wrong… except you look like a girl."

Rusty, Dearka and Yzak all burst into laughter.

Nicol, on the other hand, just smiled. "Thankfully, I'm in a good mood today. So I'll just let that comment pass," he said, amiable smile still in place.

_'It's the quiet ones you have to watch out,' _Athrun concluded, while shaking his head in disbelief.

"Yzak, honey!"

All heads swiveled to the direction of the voice, the source being an elegant-looking woman, with shoulder-length silver hair. Ezaria Joule, Yzak's mother. Yzak shot each and every one of them a look that plainly said, 'back off!' before moving to greet his mother.

"Mother," he muttered, trying vainly to block his teammates' view of what was to transpire next.

Ezaria smiled at him before giving him a fond kiss on the forehead. Yzak stiffened, and Athrun could see from where he stood that the boy's ears were red. Rusty was snickering softly, mouthing 'momma's boy' to Dearka and Miguel.

For one angst-ridden moment, Athrun thought about his mother. If his mother were alive, he would no-doubt be standing next to Yzak being smothered by kisses and being teased by his friends. But then again, if his mother hadn't died, he wouldn't be standing there in the first place.

Yzak muttered something under his breath. Maybe something along the lines of, _'Don't you have somewhere else to be, Mother?' _(but more politely) because his mother gave him one last kiss on the cheek and went away. A flaming Yzak made his way back into their formation.

Miguel opened his mouth – and everybody knew that -nothing- good came out of that – and said, "Finished being hen-pecked?"

"Die, Miguel. Just curl up and -die-."

Miguel brushed the somewhat-death-threat with a casual wave of his hand. "Whatever." He turned to the other cadets. "Are you all ready? Remember that we're doing this for our country!"

Dearka scoffed. "Oh, cut out the false patriotism. Just how much booze are you getting out of this anyway?"

"Four cases," Miguel answered truthfully.

Rusty and Yzak rolled their eyes as if to say, _'Figures'._

Miguel laughed, but immediately sobered up. "Seriously though, and I mean it this time, all your parents are gonna be watching, as well as all of the PLANTs. One mistake and we're all done for. Of course, it doesn't help a bit that your parents are influential people in the government. Even if you think that we're just marching idiotically out there, this is actually a test to see how much discipline we have instilled in you." He smirked. "Think of the field as the stage, the audience as country club members, and yourselves as debutantes."

"DEBUTANTES!" Five equally grossed out voices protested indignantly.

-

Across the field…

Mikhail sighed. _'He used the 'debutante speech' again.'_ He inwardly chuckled. _'Though, it's good to know it never fails to illicit a reaction from the cadets.'_ He looked around at his rookies and felt confident. They would definitely win.

Except…

"Has Fousche arrived yet?"

"No, sir. He was complaining of a headache last night. Do you want one of us to check up on him?"

Suspicion immediately overrode his normally rational reasoning. "No. I will be going by myself. Kakijima, take over. If I'm not back in ten minutes, tell the OIC that your superior is dealing with a sick cadet. They'll send a replacement. Is that understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"Good." Just before he left, he turned around and said in his most stern voice, "I want you to beat Miguel Ayman's team."

No way in hell was he going to cough up four cases of beer.

-

Athrun narrowed his eyes when he noticed Henrik's absence. Something was definitely up. He observed and waited for a couple more minutes and when Mikhail left, he made up his mind.

"Miguel."

Miguel paused in mid-speech and gave Athrun a flat look. "What's so important you just had to interrupt?"

"I need to go to the bathroom."

Miguel rolled his eyes. "Make it quick." And he resumed his conversation with Rusty and the others.

Something was up and -wrong-.

-

Of course, like every villain in an action flick, Henrik was waiting exactly for this event. The big event, wherein everyone would be too busy to care if a cadet would suddenly have a headache. But in his mind, he wasn't the villain, and if he -was- the villain, he would not fail in his mission to overcome the so-called 'heroes'.

Now that he had all the 'orders', it was time to 'make the delivery'. He was currently using one of his teammates' computers to send all the files that needed to be sent. Of course, he could've used his own computer, but he never did like using his things to do his dirty work.

Hacking.

That was his expertise.

And his grandfather told him that nothing good came from technology… oh, he could just picture the look on his grandfather's face when he learns that his grandson, the tech geek, single-handedly stole the plans for ZAFT's newest mobile suits.

He was about to press the 'Send' button when the door slid open.

Henrik looked up to see none other than Mikhail Ayman, pointing a gun at him.

"Do all officers point a gun at cadets who decide to play hooky?" he asked jokingly, but his eyes were hard and cold. Good thing that the computer table was hiding his hands from view.

"Only those who found out that their cadets are actually spies," Mikhail answered evenly.

Henrik laughed. "A spy? And what makes you say that?"

"Stop acting so innocent!"

"What if I -am- innocent?"

Mikhail hesitated and it was all it took for Henrik to pull the trigger of -his- gun. Mikhail's body swayed for a second before it fell back with a dull thud. Henrik shook his head as he walked towards the unmoving carcass. Amber eyes were frozen in shock, with blood pooling on his chest, directly where the heart was.

"I guess I overestimated you."

He was about to go back inside the room when a slight movement caught his eye. He fired several shots towards the witness, but he seemed to regain his composure and moved quickly out of the way. Henrik swore loudly and took it as an opportunity to make a break for it. He could recognize that blue hair anywhere.

Of all people to witness it, it just had to be Athrun Zala!

-

Miguel stopped mid-speech for the second time that day. But this time, it wasn't because of Athrun. A wave of nausea came over him and he clutched his head. "Anyone got an aspirin?" he asked weakly, to no one in particular.

-

Athrun stood in shock as he watched Mikhail's body fall back. Mikhail lay on the floor, obviously dead. But… Denial. His own two eyes saw it, but he refused to believe it. He watched as Henrik appeared from the doorway and knelt casually beside the unmoving body.

"I guess I overestimated you."

Unexplainable rage coursed through him and he unconsciously took a step forward. Mikhail couldn't be dead! He was alive a moment ago! What would Miguel say? He was a few feet away and he wasn't even able to do anything about it! The man died in front of him, and he didn't even do anything!

Unfortunately, Henrik seemed to notice his presence and immediately fired a few rounds in his direction. Coordinator instincts kicked in, and he hid behind the safety of the walls. He heard Henrik curse, followed by the sound of footsteps moving farther away.

Henrik was making a run for it!

"Damn coward," he muttered hoarsely under his breath. When he was sure that Henrik had cleared the area, Athrun went out of his hiding place and quickly made a beeline towards Mikhail.

He felt bile climb up through his throat and he covered his mouth with his hand to suppress it. There was so much blood; the redness of it contrasting greatly with the green of Mikhail's uniform. He closed the opened eyes with his fingertips.

"Sorry, Mikhail," he said shakily.

Athrun stood up and ran after Henrik.

-

_'Damn it.'_

Henrik used the elevator to lead him down, down the lobby. The whole building was abandoned. Even better, more suitable for his plans. Athrun Zala had to be killed. Such was Henrik's incredibly eloquent plan. The doors slid open and Henrik gritted his teeth in annoyance. If it weren't for Zala's meddlesome nature, everything would've been fine and dandy.

_'Kill Athrun Zala.'_

Henrik smirked. If only it were that simple.

-

Athrun reached the last step and he crept silently across the marble floor, gun in slightly trembling hand. He leaned against one of the lobby's many columns, using it as his impromptu hiding place. He willed his frantically beating heart to calm down. But he really couldn't blame it; it was his first time doing something like this.

First time getting ready to kill someone. But then again, he should've expected it the moment he accepted his father's orders. After all, 'deal with him' was synonymous with 'kill him.'

_'And you better get used to it,_' said a little voice in his head. _'After you graduate, after you become a full-fledged soldier, there'll be many more to come…many spies for Patrick Zala's military dog to kill.'_

He shook his head ruefully to get rid of the awful thoughts taking flight in his head. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out to calm his stressed out nerves. He ran towards the column on his left.

He had known from the start that Henrik Fousche was a spy sent by the Earth Alliance. Henrik was no ordinary spy. Or should he say, Henrik was no ordinary Natural. He was able to infiltrate a military school for -Coordinators-, which was no mean feat. Not to mention that Henrik had been excelling and going head to head with the other young enlistees.

Henrik was a good actor. He had managed to fool everyone. Mikhail, especially.

And now, Mikhail was dead.

_'Stop, Athrun. Don't go there…'_ he mentally reprimanded himself. He could still feel the blood on his hands. Mikhail's blood on his hands… He shouldn't have touched the corpse… He shook his head to get rid of the horrifying images. _'It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault…'_

His made-up mantra was interrupted by a gunshot. He instinctively ducked and clutched the gun harder. Several gunshots followed and he waited for a lull in Henrik's attack. Sensing that Henrik had stopped to reload his gun, he fired several shots in what he thought was Henrik's direction and ran towards a nearer column.

Henrik fired a shot and Athrun felt the bullet rush past his right ear.

After his back met the safety of the column, he held a hand up his ear to check if it was bleeding. Fortunately for him, it missed, leaving his ear safe and sound (no pun intended) and without a scratch.

He heard Henrik's footsteps getting farther from him.

_'Well, at least I'm sure my ear is working just fine,'_ he thought dryly. He decided to gamble and he ran after Henrik. _'You've got no way out, you freak. Good luck trying to escape in a place swarming with Coordinators and with Patrick Zala to boot.'_

It was clear that Henrik was running in circles. He was trapped. It was only a matter of time before Henrik realized it himself.

"You've got nowhere to run Henrik Fousche," Athrun muttered darkly. "Nowhere to run but to hell."

-

"Where the hell is Athrun?" Yzak asked no one in particular. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Are you worried, perhaps?" Dearka snickered.

Yzak snarled. "Not in the way that your dumb brain is thinking, bastard! What the hell's taking so goddamn long? It's two minutes 'til the exhibition and he still isn't here!"

"I don't think we'll be able to perform our drill exhibition, anyway, Yzak," Nicol said worriedly. He gestured to a pale-looking Miguel sitting on the grass with his head buried in his hands. "I think Miguel's sick."

"For the love of - !" Yzak stomped over to Miguel. "You're a freaking Coordinator, for god's sake!" he nearly yelled. "Why couldn't you have picked tomorrow as your sick day?"

Miguel groaned in protest. "Stop yelling in my ear. Ugh. I think…I'm gonna…barf…" he mumbled weakly.

Rusty, who had been uncharacteristically quiet for the past minutes, suddenly spoke up. "Hey, I'm going to go look for Athrun, okay?"

"Just don't go M.I.A. on us," Dearka joked good-naturedly.

"Heck if I will," Rusty replied. He gave Miguel a pat on the back and rushed off to the direction of the research facilities.

Miguel suddenly belched on Yzak's booted left foot. "I think, I'm gonna hurl…"

Yzak screamed bloody murder. "You just did, you disgusting ass!"

-

Henrik Fousche was not an ordinary Earth Alliance officer. He was one of the youngest and most outstanding in the entire Atlantic Federation. He had undergone severe training – years and years of hard work and his pride wouldn't let him lose to someone like Athrun Zala.

His ego wouldn't let him.

And his strength, power and cunning will help him.

Almost everyone was in the field, witnessing that idiotic drill exhibition. For him, Athrun was just as alone as he was at the moment. He had trained long and hard for this mission and nothing would get in his way.

He fired several shots in a random direction; the sound of Athrun's footsteps was almost non-existent. Silence permeated the entire facility. Those Coordinators truly were arrogant to have left the entire facility defenseless. And Patrick Zala was even more arrogant to have sent his own son to get him, one of the best, if not the best, spy of the Earth Alliance.

It was almost bordering on insulting.

And if there was one thing that Henrik hated, it was being insulted.

-

The sound of a door closing caught Athrun's attention. He risked a glance and he saw the Henrik had entered the room – whatever room it was. He quickly ran towards the aforementioned room and pressed his back on the wall beside the door. If he was lucky – which he doubt he was – Henrik would be stuck in a store room or something. But if he was unlucky… well, he didn't want to think about it.

Fearing that Henrik might escape using the windows, he gathered his courage and kicked the door open, gun ready to fire. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized what the room was.

'_Windowless,_' Athrun thought with a smirk.

It was the flight simulation room and there were at least twenty machines from which Henrik could hide in. He closed the door behind him and hid behind one of the bulky machines. Finally, sensing that it was time for that hero-villain pep talk, Athrun asked the question that had been plaguing his mind. "Why did you have to kill Mikhail?"

There was silence at first and then a scoff. "Are you an idiot or what? That's my job!"

"But he was…"

"He was my supposed superior officer – nothing more, nothing less. He wasn't my friend. None of you are," Henrik answered truthfully. What surprised Athrun was that his voice held no malice whatsoever. He sounded so annoyingly detached. Not even a hint of remorse, disgust, or anger could be detected from his tone.

Athrun opened his mouth, but after realizing that he did not know how to respond to that, closed it again. He gritted his teeth in annoyance. Mikhail wasn't overly friendly like his brother was, but still the thought of someone dying – someone he knew – served fuel to his anger.

"I do not kill in cold blood. I kill because I have to. What about you Coordinators? Wouldn't you have to kill me, too?" Henrik countered. His voice sounded farther away than before – he was moving around the machines. What ever his plan was, Athrun was prepared for it.

But what Henrik said caught Athrun off-guard. In the end, it all boiled down to the fact that they were all doing their jobs. Even so… couldn't they go against it? Question it? Like Miguel said? Athrun shook his head. There were more important things to consider than just one's principles. Sometimes, one has to do what one was ordered to do. He decided to follow the sound of Henrik's very faint footsteps (good thing Henrik was wearing those ZAFT-issued military boots).

He stood up and felt something click behind his head. Another thing he felt was something cold poking him in the back.

"I'm going to kill you, Zala. But that's only because so I don't get killed."

-

* * *

-

_**Author's Notes: **Eeek! Cliffhanger! Erm… for flames or rants please do not review. :D just kidding. No seriously, please review. Let me know if this chapter is unsatisfactory or not._

_Erm… yeah. I planned to kill of Mikhail right from the start. No one's crying bucket of tears over him, that's for sure. I liked him but he was too…bland. Poor Mikhail. Poor Miguel._

_Anyway, I take it everyone has pretty much grasped the concept and plot of this story? If not, well… inform me and I'd gladly answer any questions._

_Special thanks to: my beta-reader, **Lia lostsmile **(kudos to you girl friend!)._

_And to the reviewers: **Princess Ashes**, **Maryam Khanoom**, **lightyearsaway**, **Mutsu**, **dark.retreat**, **koyuki-san**, **Warp Ligia Obscura**, **Meira Kurosaki**, **MapleRose**, **Allie Night**, **Kageharu Kaco**, **Krilyn**, **Belldandy** and **plushoo**. _


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